


Vows

by imaginentertain



Series: Vegas Verse [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: AU Meeting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-26
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-12-31 06:47:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 41,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1028562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginentertain/pseuds/imaginentertain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine wakes up in Vegas with a hangover, a husband, and no memory of the night before. He's now facing a road trip, more questions than answers, and discovery of what it means to not only be himself but a husband.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first thing Blaine was aware of when consciousness crept over him was just how much his head _hurt_. His skull felt heavy, like it was trying to sink into the pillows and he was happy to let it because it would distract him from the churning in his stomach.

Now that he was awake his body was intent on telling him _exactly_ what was wrong with him; carpet tongue, steel skull with Jamaican Kettle Band in residence, stomach stuck on a rollercoaster.

Hello hangover.

He carefully started to move, rolling over carefully on the mattress so he wasn't face down. As he did so his body sparked, letting him know that _we're kinda stiff and sore down here so how about you take it easy?_ He was happy to oblige and so rested his head back on the pillow, settling on his side for the moment.

"Morning."

Blaine's eyes flicked open but he didn't move as the strange voice spoke to him. That strange, melodic voice...

"How's your head?" the voice asked in sympathy. "Mine's... been better."

It took the Kettle Band a minute to process it and to shake off the illusion that it was a girl in bed with him (because that would have probably required a LOT of alcohol) and so he carefully rolled over a little more, casting a glance over his shoulder.

Well, he'd certainly done well on that front.

The man in bed with him was beautiful, there was no other way to describe him. His skin was pale but not sickly so, he was lean but not lanky, and although he had a serious case of bed head there was still an unmistakeable sense of style about him.

"Hi," Beautiful Boy said, a smile creeping on to those lips that Blaine had only previously thought existed in fantasies.

"Hey," he croaked, feeling the carpet give way to sandpaper. "Um..."

"There's some water on your side," Beautiful said with a gentle nod.

Blaine turned back over and saw the bottle. He grabbed it and without thinking too much about it pushed up a little so he could drink most of the half litre in one. As soon as he was a little more upright he took stock of his body and its current aches and pains.

"Um... yeah," Beautiful said, "not sure how... Sorry. I'm usually pretty good with prep."

"It's fine," Blaine said. "Sure there's no lasting damage."

Beautiful Boy gave a soft laugh and Blaine's Kettle Band took a moment to marvel at how melodic he sounded.

"What?"

"It's Blaine, right?"

"Yeah," he said, shuffling so he was sitting up against the headboard. "And you are?"

"Kurt," Beautiful Boy said.

"Um... nice to meet you?" Blaine said, a lame attempt at a joke.

"So Blaine. You fancy Anderson-Hummel or Hummel-Anderson?"

Blaine's brow dropped in confusion and he glanced over at Beautiful Boy... Kurt. "What?"

"How much do you remember about last night?"

"...Not much," Blaine admitted.

"Well, if it's any consolation I'm in the same boat," Kurt said, reaching to pick something up from his side of the bed. "This made for some... interesting reading when I woke up half an hour ago."

Kurt handed a piece of paper to Blaine who held out his hand for it. His left hand. Taking the paper from Kurt (held in his left hand) the Kettle Band noticed it and told Blaine what had happened before he'd unfolded it.

"Welcome to the Vegas cliché," Kurt said.

"We... got married?"

"Looks that way," Kurt said, critically examining the cheap band on his ring finger. "And I'm guessing from the way you're feeling that we..."

"Yeah, we did," Blaine said, realising what the familiar feeling was.

"So now what? Quickie Vegas wedding, quickie Vegas divorce?"

Blaine was busy staring at the certificate, taking it all in. He got married. He got drunk in Vegas and he got married. He got drunk in Vegas and he got married and he had a husband.

Well fuck.

 

*

 

Kurt had allowed Blaine to use the bathroom first and he'd taken advantage of the luxurious shower to work out the tension in his muscles. This wasn't his room – no way could he afford something like this on his salary – so he took a moment to explore the hair care products available to him.

He had only heard of a couple of the brands and even then it was from mentions in magazines that his flatmate's girlfriend left lying around. He chose the least expensive looking ones and used only a small amount in case he was wrong; so far his "husband" seemed to be an OK guy but that didn't mean he could start adhering to the 'what's yours is mine' mantra.

After showering he dried off using the softest towel he'd ever used and pulled yesterday's clothes back on. He knocked on the inside of the bathroom door before stepping into the room itself.

"Find everything OK?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, used some of your stuff..."

"That's fine," Kurt said. He wasn't dressed but had pulled a robe around himself. "I imagine you're as hungry as I am. The room service here is pretty good so choose what you want. My order's on the pad, just put it on the room tab."

Blaine almost protested, said he could pay his own way, but he realised that wasn't the point here. So he just said, "Thanks" and stepped out of the way to allow Kurt to go into the bathroom.

As soon as he heard the shower running Blaine took a moment to look around the room for clues about his "husband". Aside from his name he knew nothing about the guy (which, he supposed, was the same for Kurt about him) and he didn't like not knowing stuff.

Kurt's clothes were hanging up in the wardrobe, tasteful and expensive by the look of them. There was a notebook computer on the desk, next to Kurt's wallet.

For a moment Blaine hesitated, this was pretty personal. The shower was still running but that didn't mean Kurt couldn't appear at any point, coming back into the room for something he'd forgotten or needed. Finding his new "husband" going through his wallet probably wouldn't be the best start to... whatever this was.

The fact that Blaine mentally added air quotes around the word husband was a pretty good indication how things were for him at least.

Driver's licence, that was it. That was all Blaine would look at. Just... to see. Taking decisive strides across the room he flicked it open, glancing at the display panel.

Kurt Hummel, 26 years old (same age then), resident of New York, usual statistics (he'd have to look up what glasz actually meant when it came to eye colour), and a stunningly beautiful picture. He was never going to see Blaine's licence if that's what Kurt's picture looked like. (His friend Wes had taken one look, laughed, and called him Chewbacca for weeks on end.) Having seen what he wanted Blaine moved to put the wallet back but before he did so he couldn't help but see the credit cards nestled in the leather.

Cards.

Plural.

Blaine had cards but not like these ones. His were the common variety ones. Of course he'd seen what a Gold Card looked like but never in the wallet of anyone he knew. It would explain the hotel room, the orders on room service...

Room service.

Breakfast.

Right.

Dropping Kurt's wallet back onto the desk he found the menu and quickly scanned it, his stomach growling in anticipation of food. Once he'd ordered he was at a loss so he just sat on the edge of the bed until the shower had gone off and Kurt reappeared.

"You OK?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah. You?"

Kurt shrugged gently. "I wasn't sure how long you needed to go through my stuff, find out more about me." He couldn't help but laugh at the horrified look that passed across Blaine's face. "I'm joking, I promise!"

"I looked at your driving licence," Blaine admitted.

"Not sure about the picture," Kurt said, dismissing what could have been an invasion of privacy.

"It's stunning. You're stunning," Blaine said before he could stop himself. "I just wanted to know more about you, that's all."

"Twenty questions?"

"What?"

"Twenty questions. No lies, no passes, no holds barred?" Kurt offered. "The whole 'be true to each other' thing? You can even go first if you want."

"OK... What is it you do in New York?" Blaine asked.

"I work for a fashion magazine," Kurt said. "We're not quite Vogue but we will be one day. My turn. What do you do... wherever you do it?"

"That's two questions," Blaine laughed. "Um, I teach. Eighth Grade English. In LA."

"California," Kurt said with a low whistle. "Explains the tan."

"No, that's from my mom," he said. "You East Coasters are so pale though."

"I'm not from New York," Kurt said. "Ohio originally."

"Me too," Blaine said quickly. "We moved around a bit but home is, was Westerville."

Kurt froze and stared at him for a moment. "I'm from Lima."

"What?"

"We grew up a few hours' from each other," Kurt realised before he laughed. "Who'd have guessed. Desperate to get out of a town where I was the only openly gay kid in school and I wind up married to someone who lived down the road."

"Was it hard?" Blaine asked. "Being the only... The only one?"

"At first," Kurt said, taking a seat in front of the mirror as he began to style his hair. "But I had some pretty good friends in the end. Made it so I could stick around."

"Was it a possibility that you wouldn't?"

"...Yeah," Kurt said, catching Blaine's gaze through the mirror. "There was a time in my Junior year that I really thought... But my brother and our friends really helped me out and by the end of it I was actually pretty sad to leave. Weird, huh?"

"I wasn't," Blaine said quietly. "Sad to leave my school I mean. After... what happened... Dalton was a safe haven."

Kurt froze again. "You were at Dalton?"

"You heard of it?"

"We faced them in a couple of our Sectionals."

"You were in your Glee club?"

Kurt turned around to face Blaine. "You too?"

"Yeah. We were The Warblers."

"I was in New Directions."

Blaine thought for a moment. "McKinley?" When Kurt nodded he sighed. "How is it that we never met before then?"

"Well I missed one of the Sectionals," Kurt said. "Had the most awful cold during my Junior year..."

"That would have been my Sophomore," Blaine said quietly, "and I missed my Junior one because of a broken ankle..."

"So I've got myself a younger man?" Kurt laughed.

"Actually no," Blaine replied. "I... repeated a year."

Kurt's question was stilled by a knock at the door. "That will be breakfast," he said.

 

*

 

They ate in relative silence, neither one of them wanting to return to what was potentially a very dangerous topic. Clearly they had both had traumatic experiences during their High School years, experiences which had played out a few hours away from the other. So they decided to put the questions to one side for a moment and focus on food and getting themselves sorted out. Something that was going fairly well until Blaine noticed the clock.

"Shit," he swore loudly.

"What?"

"I'm supposed to be at the airport."

"When?"

"Flight leaves in twenty minutes."

"So you've missed that then," Kurt stated unhelpfully. "Can you rebook?"

"No point," Blaine sighed. "I was going to New York for a friend's birthday tonight, then driving back to Westerville for a... family gathering. May as well go straight to Ohio."

"You don't sound thrilled about the idea."

"It's a three line whip party," Blaine said, trying to smile but failing.

"So go back to LA."

"And risk the wrath of my parents? Rather not. May as well just look into flights to Ohio."

"Last minute? That'll be expensive."

"Tell me about it," he sighed.

Kurt sighed gently. "Feel free to say no if you want but..." When Blaine eyed him carefully he continued. "I kinda drove here. To Las Vegas."

"From New York?" Blaine asked.

"Yeah. Long story."

"Long drive."

"But anyway, seeing as Westerville is near Lima and my dad's been on at me to come visit... I could give you a lift?"

"You'd drive me to my parents'?"

"It's not that far out of my way," Kurt lied, "and you and I have things to sort out." He didn't quite know why he was offering to drive this relative stranger all the way to Ohio (which was a day straight, easily three days with breaks) but he couldn't just cut him loose.

"I can't ask you to do that."

"You're not asking, I'm offering. I really don't mind, Blaine."

"Kurt..." He sighed and nodded. "That'd be great, thanks."

"Good. Could use someone to share the driving. Took me the best part of a week to get down here."

"Why on earth did you drive from New York anyway? Surely the gas would have been more expensive."

"Long story."

"We're gonna have time," Blaine pointed out.

 

*

 

Blaine waited while Kurt packed up his things and checked out of the hotel. He then drove them to Blaine's much cheaper accommodation and waited while Blaine did the same. Then they were on the road, heading north to somewhere they both once called home.

"Next question," Kurt said after the silence became unbearable.

"What?"

"We said twenty questions, right? You're behind, it's two-one to me."

"OK, so question two. Why New York?"

"I wanted to escape," Kurt admitted. "Lima... wasn't for me. NYADA, Broadway... I wanted it all."

"So why did you give it up?" Blaine asked.

"I'm not sure," Kurt admitted. "It just happened. I was doing more and more behind the scenes, costume design, that sort of thing. I started a theatre fashion magazine and before I knew it I was working for this new fashion publication. My turn. Why Los Angeles?"

"I wanted to escape too," Blaine said. "But it wasn't about Hollywood. It was just about... getting away. And California seemed like a good a place as any once I graduated."

"A year after me," Kurt said, "despite the fact we're the same age."

Blaine tensed as he sensed the question that was coming.

"You don't have to..."

"I was beaten up. Badly. Spent months in hospital and just missed too much," he said quietly.

"Because you're..."

Blaine looked down at the map sitting on his knees, pretending to work out their route despite the fact that it was pretty much all on the same Interstate.

"I'm sorry," Kurt said.

"It was a long time ago."

"Yeah, but those things don't go away do they?" Kurt said.

"What was it like for you in High School?"

"I wasn't... if that's what you mean. But it wasn't fun either. I was bullied, this one guy especially... For the most part it was being slammed into lockers, tossed into dumpsters, name calling, slushie facials..."

"Slushies?" Blaine asked.

"Don't ask," Kurt laughed. "But this one guy... it was a mission for him. And when things were really bad I did wonder what I was going to do..."

"You said your brother and friends stepped in?"

"Yeah. It was just after the wedding and Finn decided to actually step up and be my brother." He glanced to his side and laughed at Blaine's expression. "Finn's actually my step-brother. My dad married his mom during our Junior year.

"But yeah. If it weren't for them I don't know what I'd have done."

"Why didn't you leave?" Blaine asked.

"And what? Go to Dalton? Not everyone could afford the tuition you know."

"Sorry," Blaine said quietly.

"Me too," Kurt said when he realised how harsh he'd been.

"Four down, sixteen to go," Blaine said eventually. "Questions," he then added.

"Well we've got a long trip. Plenty of time."

 

*

 

They made it to Denver by nightfall and found a motel with ease. The clerk by the desk eyed them warily when the two of them walked in but seemed placated when Kurt asked for two rooms.

"Not sure we'll make it to Westerville tomorrow," Kurt said by way of apology. "SatNav said it was over 20 hours from here."

"Tomorrow night is the gathering, the fun begins the next day. Anyway, less time I spend there the better," Blaine said as he followed Kurt up the stairs to their assigned rooms.

"Still, we should try and get as much of it done as possible, yeah?"

"You're the driver."

Kurt stretched out a little, working out kinks in his spine. "Was hoping you'd do some tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, sure, of course," Blaine stammered. "Sorry, I never even thought to offer today."

"It's fine, really. Night Blaine."

"Night Kurt."

The two of them walked into their separate rooms and sat on their separate beds and stared at the wall which divided their two rooms. Both of them ran fingers absent mindedly over the wedding bands they'd not bothered to remove earlier before doing just that and heading for the shower.

 

*

 

An hour or so later there was a soft knock on Blaine's door, and he opened it to find Kurt standing there with a takeout bag in one hand a carrier bag in the other.

"Figured you'd be hungry too," he said. "Chinese OK?"

"Great," Blaine said as he smelled the food. "Although I hope that's not beer," he added, gesturing to the carrier.

"What are you afraid of?" Kurt asked. "Committing bigamy?" he joked.

"I can't believe they actually let us get married," Blaine said.

"The marriage bill passed a long time ago, sweetie," Kurt mocked. "We can get hitched wherever we want now."

"I mean, we must have been pretty drunk."

"See, now I'm not so sure about that," Kurt said as he lifted the containers from the bag. "I think we carried on drinking afterwards."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I found the receipt for the rings. We got married some time after eight last night, that's pretty early on. Few more hours' drinking?"

"Is anything coming back to you?"

"Nothing substantial. Why? You?"

"I don't know if it means anything, but when I was in the shower I was thinking about you..." Blaine stopped and flushed red as he realised the implication of his statement. "I mean... what you said, before, about school. McKinley and New Directions... Was one of your guys in a wheelchair?"

"Yeah, Artie," Kurt said.

"I think I remember you guys. The year I was at Sectionals, the year you missed, the lead was taken by this girl, phenomenal voice..."

"Rachel?"

"No... I keep thinking about cars for some reason."

"Mercedes," Kurt laughed. "One of my closest friends."

"Yeah? How'd she take the news of your nuptials?"

"I've not told her. Why? You told anyone?"

"Not sure how to if I'm honest," Blaine laughed. " _Hey guys. So I met this guy last night and we got married and_..." Blaine stopped and looked up at him. "We were playing Blackjack."

"What?"

"When we met. It was at one of the Blackjack tables. We were both pretty shit at it and we got talking and..."

"...you told me about the Warblers and... oh what was that bird's name?"

"Pavarotti?"

"Yeah, that's it. You went on and on about that thing."

"Hey, I loved that bird. I was devastated when he died."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kurt said in feigned sympathy.

"So you should be. I'm not mocking your grief over Alexander McQueen."

The memory sparked, Kurt tried to hide his grin. "No, but you did last night."

"This is good, right?" Blaine asked as Kurt poured the mineral water into two mugs. "Us remembering stuff?"

"I guess," Kurt replied. "At the very least it's nice to know that we got on _before_ we got married."

"Is that important to you?"

"Oh yes," he grinned, lifting the mug to his lips. "All good relationships are built on a solid foundation of friendship first."

"So we're doing pretty well then?"

"I think we are," he smiled as they chipped their mugs together in a toast.

 

*

 

"OK, next round," Kurt said as they pulled out of Denver at an ungodly early hour of the morning. "Question five. What's your favourite colour?"

Blaine laughed at the banality of the question. "Anything bright," he said. "The Dalton colours were so dull any excuse. You?"

"Depends on the season," Kurt replied. "Different colours are in fashion at different times."

"Oh god, you're one of them aren't you?"

"One of what?

"A fashionista."

"I _work_ in fashion, Blaine. I can't be seen walking about in faded jeans and a uni hoodie."

"Not even around your apartment?"

"And why would I want to do that?"

"You've got to have an old set of clothes that you wear purely when you're... I don't know. Cleaning or when you're sick or when you're just not going anywhere and are hanging about listening to music or watching whatever's on TV?"

"I clean as I go, I'm rarely sick, and thanks to work I almost never have time off," Kurt said.

"I know what that's like," Blaine agreed. "Weekends and holidays are a time for me to catch up with everything."

"So how's your summer going so far?"

"Everything I hoped it would be," Blaine quipped. "I don't know. I just needed a break really. I love my job and I adore the kids, but it's not something I really saw myself doing. Kinda fell into it really. Something decent, respectable, pays the bills..."

"You sound like half the teachers at McKinley. In it for the paycheck."

"No, it's not like that. I really do love it, I love working with the kids and I love getting them to read and imagine and all of that. Not quite where I thought I'd be ten years ago that's all."

"That's where you and I differ then," Kurt said as he drew his knees up to put his feet up on the dash. "New York, Broadway. Always the dream."

"Says the fashion reporter."

Kurt laughed and held up his hands in resignation. "Question six. Which football team do you support?"

"I'm gonna ask you the same in response," Blaine said, "so you can change the question if you want."

"Hey, I can talk football too."

Blaine took his eyes off the Interstate to look at his passenger in shock.

"What? I can't be gay and like football? Because I reckon you're a fan."

"Yeah, college stuff mainly though. The Buckeyes are pretty good. You?"

"I have no clue," Kurt said, eliciting a laugh from Blaine. "Dad and Finn are into it, I just watched with them. It was an attempt at boys' time I guess, Carole thought it was important."

"She your step-mom?"

"Yeah. She's awesome. She'd be waiting for me in the kitchen when I finally gave up on the football and we'd end up baking something healthy that my dad would hate."

"I like the sound of your family," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt wanted to ask Blaine about his but with every mile they drove closer to his home the more distant Blaine seemed to get. What little he'd already betrayed about his family made it quite clear that given the choice Blaine would rather be going anywhere but back to Ohio.

"Question seven," Blaine said, abruptly changing the topic. "Favourite Broadway musical."

"You have one?" Kurt questioned.

"I saw RENT at a local community theatre once, does that count?"

"It was on Broadway, so yeah. I guess."

"That one then. You? Bet you've got dozens to choose from. So here's your chance to educate me."

Kurt knew what Blaine was doing, and he suspected that Blaine knew that Kurt knew. But it was clearly what he wanted and so Kurt indulged him, spending the following hour listing all the musicals he'd seen since moving to New York and all the things he loved about them.

As they pulled in to a gas station to refuel and switch drivers Kurt found himself promising to take Blaine to see at least one the next time he was in New York, a promise that Blaine agreed to take him up on.

 

*

 

Kurt woke up and rubbed his eyes. "Ugh, how long was I asleep?"

"Couple of hours," Blaine said. "Apparently I'm not stimulating enough."

"Sorry."

"It's fine, really," he laughed.

Kurt straightened up in his seat and looked around them. "We're not on the Interstate."

"I got bored," Blaine said. "Fancied the scenic route."

"Really?"

"What?"

"How long have we been taking the 'scenic route'?"

"About an hour or so."

"So you've added maybe a couple of hours to the trip? You're really not keen to go home."

"Next question," Blaine said, cutting off Kurt's line of enquiry. "Come on. You can do better than favourite colours."

"Who was your first kiss?" Kurt asked.

"He was a friend actually. The only other gay guy at school and we... wondered what it was like. You?"

"Not a good moment actually," he admitted. "I mean, I don't count the whole 'playing it straight' phase, so the first guy? He... grabbed me."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"I got over it. Number nine. Your first love."

"Guy I met freshman year in college. His name was Nicholas, art major. We just clicked and were together for... wow, two years pretty much. Who was yours?"

"Adam," Kurt said, his voice a little quieter. "I met him during my Junior year. We were friends first, pretty much for the whole year, but when we were getting ready to go home for the summer we kinda realised how close we'd become. We talked almost every day and kinda fell into the relationship when we got back in September."

"Sounds amazing."

"Yeah, it was. Adam was my first love... My only love I guess. We broke up a couple of months ago."

"Shit, Kurt," Blaine hissed. "I'm not doing a good job with these return questions."

"It's fine, really," Kurt said, drawing his knees up protectively anyway. "I promise I have a better story for this one."

"Oh?" Blaine questioned.

Kurt turned his head to Blaine and grinned. "Tell me about your first time."

 

*

 

They stopped in some little town for lunch, demolishing an almost unhealthy amount of food in record time. Their conversations slipped from the serious to the mundane with ease and Blaine suddenly felt like he'd known Kurt for his whole life.

As they argued over splitting the check Blaine felt something shift in his chest, something he couldn't quite place. He stilled for long enough for Kurt to win the argument and pay the bill.

"You OK?" Kurt asked when he noticed Blaine's silence.

"Yeah," he said. "Just... thinking."

"About your dad?"

"No."

"Blaine..."

"No, really, I wasn't."

"Then what had you so distracted?" Kurt asked as they walked back to the car, automatically switching so he was driving now. "You can tell me."

"I know," Blaine said, a small smile creeping onto his face. "It's fine, really."

"But you are worried about your dad."

Blaine, who'd opened the car door, froze and looked at Kurt over the roof of the car.

"Question eleven," Kurt stated.

"Please..." Blaine whispered.

"Is your dad homophobic?"

Blaine didn't reply right away, just got into the car and shut the door. He pulled his belt on and stared out of the windshield as Kurt got in beside him.

"I think we need to introduce a pass," Kurt said finally as they were back on the road. "For when I push things too far."

"Can I ask my question first? Then I'll answer yours."

"OK," Kurt said.

"What was it like having support? Because you did, didn't you? Your dad he... was supportive?"

"Yeah, he was. When I told him I was gay he told me he knew, he'd always known. And that if that was who I was then he was OK with that. I mean, we had our ups and downs and I know he found it hard but... yeah. He's fine with it. With me. So long as I'm happy he is."

"And when you were with Adam?"

"For the first few years he wouldn't let us share a room," Kurt laughed, "but once we'd moved in together he gave up all pretence. He liked Adam, once he knew we were serious about each other."

"I could never have brought anyone home," Blaine said quietly, still staring dead ahead. "I couldn't even talk about guys I was seeing."

"Shit," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"He never... said anything outright. It was how he was with me. Like I wasn't good enough. Like I'd... disappointed him somehow."

Kurt gripped the wheel tightly and stared dead ahead. He knew he couldn't interrupt this; he had enough gay friends with stories just like these. He knew he was lucky, he knew that the Burt Hummels in this world were few and far between from the starting blocks. Most parents came around in the end, once they'd got over the shock, but every so often there was a kid whose parents didn't.

"I told Mom first," Blaine continued. "No plan, no real decision... We were out one day, shopping for Dad's birthday present. These girls walked past us and Mom looked at me as if she was waiting for some kind of reaction from me. So I just blurted out that I was gay. She stopped dead – this guy walked right into her! – and she stared at me. I knew she didn't quite believe me so I told her again.

"Looking back I'm kinda glad I did it in public. She just got really quiet and didn't stop watching me all the way back to the car. It was as if she wasn't sure who I was any more.

"When we got home she and Dad locked themselves in the kitchen and I know they were talking about me. When they finally came out Dad walked straight up to me and looked me dead in the eye. Took every nerve I had to tell him what I'd told Mom. And like Mom he said nothing.

"The next day I'm hauled off on a fishing trip. He told me it was for his birthday but I knew. After that it was football season tickets, we rebuilt a car once. Once he realised that was it he gave up and that was that."

"That was that?" Kurt asked in shock, forgetting his promised silence. "What? Nothing since?"

"Nothing," Blaine repeated. "It's the greatest open secret in our family. That was the only time I've said I was gay and they've not acknowledged it since."

"I'm... I'm so sorry."

Blaine gave a small shrug. "It's expected. The Anderson family are... interesting people. Most of them are very old school about things and dad knows that if I publically came out..."

"So the entire family are just ignoring you?" Kurt squeaked. "I'm sorry, but that's just worse."

"Worse than what? Being disowned? Kicked out? Rejected by my parents, my aunts and uncles and cousins? And all because the older generation would pretty much demand it. My parents probably wouldn't want to but if they didn't then they'd be out. The house, the business, the whole Anderson legacy... All of it resting on me."

"Blaine..."

"And before you tell me that I shouldn't be hiding, that my parents and my family will be just fine, you don't know that."

"Have you asked them?"

"You remember the whole point about us not talking about it?"

"So what did they think you were getting up to in LA? You said you were with this guy for what? Two years?"

"Yeah, my... _best friend and roommate_ ," Blaine quipped. "I swear it was like we'd stepped out of the '60s."

"You're hardly black and white though, love," Kurt laughed.

Blaine caught the term of endearment and his chest twisted again. But they carried on without referencing it, turning the car into a holiday special, affecting voices and singing songs from yesteryear at the top of their voices.

 

*

 

That night's motel was a few hours' drive from home but neither of them were too keen about making that final push. Blaine had claimed that his parents wouldn't look too kindly on him arriving in the small hours of the morning and Kurt's temptation to steal Blaine away to his home was probably going to have the same reaction.

_Dad? Carole? This is Blaine. My husband..._

So another motel it was again, separate rooms again, but this time Blaine brought Kurt the take away and mineral water.

"Question twelve," Kurt asked as they cleared away the garbage. "If you want?"

"I get a pass?" Blaine asked.

"Maybe," Kurt grinned, "but I was thinking a postponement if you'd rather not?"

"Ask," Blaine said as he sat cross-legged on the end of Kurt's bed.

"What have your relationships been like? I mean, you said you couldn't take anyone home..."

"I didn't miss out if that's what you mean," Blaine said. "To be honest I'd not want to take anyone home! But it meant that I got to live my life the way I wanted. I didn't have the pressure of wondering if we were at the 'meet the parents' stage so we took things at our own pace.

"Nicholas and I were together for two years, pretty happy for most of it. After that there were a couple of guys. I think six months was the shortest relationship."

"No sleazy one night stands?" Kurt asked lightly.

"There was this one guy," Blaine grinned. "Barely knew him before I was jumping into bed with him. Still, at least I had the sense to marry him first."

Kurt laughed and picked up a cushion from the chair to throw at him. "I resent being called sleazy."

"I have no evidence to the contrary," Blaine pointed out. "For all I know you told me what I wanted to hear to get me into bed."

"And who's to say you weren't the one taking advantage of me?" Kurt replied. "I was the one heartbroken after the end of a long term relationship."

"Are you?" Blaine asked. "Heartbroken I mean? You keep talking about Adam but you don't seem that sad."

"I..." Kurt began but then he sighed and sat next to Blaine on the bed. "I don't think I am to be honest. I knew it was coming but I didn't want to believe it."

Blaine gently reached out, putting his hand on Kurt's thigh in reassurance.

"We were living together, it was supposed to be a natural progression. I thought that's where we were headed, Adam... thought differently. The idea of getting married never crossed his mind."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I thought it was the end of my whole life until Mercedes told me that if Adam and I really were meant to be then we'd have either wanted the same thing or worked it out. But we didn't so I guess that tells you everything you need to know."

At some point Kurt had grasped Blaine's hand in his.

"Yeah," Blaine said, looking down at where their fingers were linked together. "It tells me you came to Vegas with marriage on the brain. You totally seduced me."

Kurt couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up in his throat and soon the two of them were laughing, clutching to the other as they fell back onto the bed. At some point they got comfortable and then they fell asleep, curled up together on the top of the covers.

 

*

 

"I was thinking we'll stop in town, I'll grab a cab up to the house," Blaine said as they neared Westerville the next morning. "I'll say I got the bus up or something."

Kurt looked over at Blaine from his vantage point in the passenger seat. Since waking up next to him this morning he was still trying to put together the pieces of Blaine he had in his head.

"I just think it best if we avoid awkward conversations," Blaine continued.

"You mean stick your head back in the sand?"

"Kurt, this is my family."

"Technically I'm your family too," Kurt shot back.

"You know what I mean."

"Look, it's your choice and as your dutiful husband I will support you," he said, placing a hand to his chest. "Even if I do think you're going about this all wrong."

"Wrong how?"

"Maybe you should tell them you got married. Might put the wind up them?"

"Give Dad a heart attack more like," Blaine said, not missing the subtle shift in Kurt when he said that. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Don't give me that. What?"

"You know I said that my dad got sick, my Junior year of High School?"

"Yeah," Blaine said right before the pieces slotted together. "Shit. Sorry."

"You weren't to know. He's fine now, well as fine as you get after something like that. But..."

"Not exactly considerate on my part," Blaine finished. "World's worst husband."

"You said it," Kurt laughed as a phone began to ring. "Think that's yours," he said as he dug the cell out from the coat pocket. "Want me to...?" he offered.

"Yeah, tell them I'll call them back?"

"Hello?" Kurt answered. "This is Blaine's phone."

"Oh, hi," came a woman's shocked voice from the other end. "Um, is he there?"

"He's driving at the moment, can I take a message and get him to call you back when we switch?"

"Um, no, it's fine," she said. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting someone else to answer his phone."

"Life's nothing if not interesting," Kurt said.

"That's true," she laughed. "So, to whom do I have the pleasure of talking?"

"This is Blaine's husband," he quipped without thinking. "And you are?" He froze for a moment, saying nothing until a quiet "Bye" when the call ended. Then he scrolled back through the phone before shooting Blaine a look. "I'd pass on the message to call your mom but I think it's a little redundant now."

Blaine nearly ran the car off the road in his haste to pull over. Ignoring the blaring horn of the car behind them he turned in his seat. "Tell me you didn't just introduce yourself as my husband to my mom," he begged.

"Why the hell don't you have her stored as 'Mom' in your cell? A little help here?"

Blaine took the phone from Kurt and pulled up the call list. "Kaitlyn's my cousin," he said. "Mom's hopeless with her cell, probably got her to do it. Oh god, Mom knows..." He leant over and put his head on the wheel.

"We can say it was a joke, a wind up. You have a friend with a really, really bad sense of humour," Kurt said, trying to think of ways to make this better. "Maybe I could explain..."

"I think you've said enough," Blaine snapped, sitting upright. "Well. Guess we are going to mine after all."

"I thought you wanted me to leave you in town," Kurt said quietly.

"If I turn up without you, whether it be as my husband or my friend with the most awful sense of humour, then I won't ever hear the end of it. You have thirty minutes to come up with something that's not going to get me kicked out of my family and/or you killed."

Kurt pressed back into his seat at Blaine eased the car back onto the road. He'd managed to screw this up for Blaine and so it was up to him to make it better. Somehow.

 

*

 

As predicted Blaine's parents were waiting for them outside the house when Blaine pulled up the (impossibly) long drive. Kurt tried to cover his shock at the Anderson house; Blaine really came from this kind of family? He'd seen these houses and imagined the people who lived in them but he never thought that he'd actually know one of them.

Once the initial anger had subsided Blaine had realised that Kurt would need a crash course in his family if they were going to get out of this. At best Kurt was a friend, at worst he was his husband, and either way he'd need to know the basics – long enough to figure out what their next move was going to be.

Mr and Mrs Anderson (Michael and Eliza, but stick to titles to begin with) watched them pull up and Kurt took a moment to run through the set up in his head. The house actually belonged to Grandfather Anderson (Harry, who was the truly narrow minded one in the family) and Blaine's parents ran the family business (investments mainly).

Today was their thirtieth wedding anniversary (they had requested no presents, just charity donations – Mrs Anderson was well known for her charity work) and so the families had descended on Ohio to celebrate. And Blaine, their only child, the black sheep in white clothing, was expected to put in an appearance. Except he'd decided to bring his "husband" along for the trip.

"Blaine, sweetheart," his mother greeted him as he stepped out of the car. "You look tired."

"Long drive," he said. "I'll be fine once I've freshened up." He was reminded about Kurt's presence when he heard the passenger door shut. "Mom, this is..."

"The husband, right?" Mr Anderson finished. He seemed to be eyeing Kurt up and down, taking him in. "Nice of you to tell us, Blaine."

"Dad..." Blaine began, looking across at Kurt.

Kurt didn't miss the look that flashed in Blaine's eyes. This was a man caught, who desperately wanted to be himself but couldn't. Last night when they'd gotten talking about relationships Blaine had shared his one wish when it came to his dad : he wanted nothing more than to be able to walk up, hand in hand with a guy he liked, and just be himself.

Kurt took a deep breath and searched Blaine's face for any sign that he should (technically) lie, make his excuses and leave. Finding none he turned back to Mr Anderson and extended his hand.

"Mr Anderson? My name's Kurt. I am sorry for the way I blurted it out on the phone to your wife, it's still a bit new to both of us. The wedding wasn't planned," he said effortlessly, "but it wasn't as if we purposefully didn't invite you. My parents weren't there either."

"Really?" Mr Anderson asked.

"It was almost spur of the moment. We were both in Vegas and I guess we got caught up in it."

"Oh Blaine," Mrs Anderson said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

"We didn't plan on doing it in Vegas but it seemed right," Kurt continued, his voice smooth and full of false confidence.

(On the other side of the car, his mother's hand still attached to his arm, Blaine's heart swelled with... what? pride?)

"Blaine and I have been thinking about it for a long time and... well... sometimes when you're so in love things just happen."

"How long have you two...?" Mr Anderson asked, trying to force the question out.

"Seems like forever," Kurt laughed, moving around the car to rescue Blaine from his mother. "We met in High School, through our Glee clubs? I was at McKinley."

"But... that was ten years ago," Mrs Anderson spluttered, looking at Kurt in disbelief.

"Oh no, we weren't then," he said. "We were friends first and it just... grew from there."

"All good relationships are built on a solid foundation of friendship first," Blaine said, trying to push his nerves back down. "Kurt and I... It came out of nowhere."

Kurt's arm slid effortlessly around Blaine's waist. "The last thing either of us want to do is make things uncomfortable for you. My family live in Lima – after this we're heading there – so if you'd rather we not stay..."

"No," Mrs Anderson said forcefully. "My boy has come home for the first time in years, this is our day to celebrate thirty years and now we have something else to celebrate. Isn't that right Michael?"

Mr Anderson clearly knew better than to argue with his wife and so he nodded, heading back into the house. Mrs Anderson followed, muttering something about getting out extra towels, leaving the boys outside.

"I'm sorry, I don't know..." Kurt started, dropping his arm from Blaine's waist.

Instead of yelling at him, Blaine turned and grabbed Kurt's face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his mouth. "Thank you," he breathed. "I have wanted someone to do that for _so_ long."

Kurt's mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as he tried to process what had just happened.

"If we're playing the role of newlyweds..." Blaine said as he realised, dropping his hands from Kurt's face. "Sorry."

"Quits?" Kurt offered with a soft laugh.

"Quits," Blaine smiled in return.

"I think I'm going to need more than the headlines if I'm going to survive your family though," Kurt said as they lifted their bags from the car.

"If you're as quick a thinker as you seem to be then you'll be fine," Blaine said, fishing through the pockets of his bag. "I can't believe you pulled all of that out of nothing."

"Training," Kurt shrugged. "What are you... oh," he said as he saw what Blaine had been looking for. "Yeah. Right."

He found his own wedding ring quickly and after only a second's hesitation he slipped it back onto his finger. Then he held out his hand for his "husband", laughing softly as Blaine took it, and they stepped over the threshold together.

 

*

 

There were quick introductions, squeals of surprise and delight ("You got _married_? To a _boy_? Yeah, I know you are, Blaine but... You don't do things by halves, do you?"), but they were soon able to extract themselves from the throng under the pretence of freshening up from the long drive.

"OK, so our back story," Blaine said as he pulled out a shirt from his bag. "We met in High School, college at different sides of the country, then what?"

"Things just grew from there," Kurt said, taking the shirt from Blaine's hands and replacing it with a black polo. "You'll look better. We saw each other when we could, long distance relationship, and things got serious a while back."

"So which of us is relocating?" Blaine asked as he pulled off his old shirt. "You know that's what they're going to ask."

Kurt was trying hard not to stare, it wasn't as if he'd not seen Blaine shirtless before. But this was... different somehow. "Um..." he started.

"I guess it should be me," Blaine said, pulling on the polo shirt. "I can teach anywhere, you're kinda tied to New York."

"Isn't it going to be weird when you don't move?" Kurt asked, refocusing to his own wardrobe choices. "Unless... That's our get out clause. You can't find a job, you like LA, your friends and your life there..."

"We start arguing," Blaine picked up, "why can't you move to LA?"

"Because my life is in New York, yours is in Los Angeles, and even though we have loved each other for so long..."

"We just can't make it work and so we get a no faults divorce."

"Done and done," Kurt smiled, turning around just in time to see Blaine peel off his jeans and pull a clean pair from his bag. Seeing his "husband" standing there in a form fitting black polo and his boxer shorts made his mouth go dry. Reminding himself that he was only human, a red blooded male, and when faced with a very attractive red blooded male certain things were to be expected, he turned away. "As for your family, I'll pick it up. Years of improv means you get used to remembering facts as they're thrown at you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And what have you picked up about me?"

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Mr Medium Drip, prefers the right side of the bed, sleeps on your side, thinks that the only topping on a pizza should be meat and can't hold his beer."

Kurt didn't need to turn around to know the expression on Blaine's face. Once he'd left enough time he did turn around, his breath sticking in his throat as he saw the equally form fitting jeans Blaine had pulled on. "Shall we then, love?" he asked, holding out his arm.

"We shall..." Blaine said, stalling on a nickname that didn't sound overly patronising or sickly sweet in his head.

"Adam called me sweetie all the time," Kurt said. When Blaine's face lit up he quickly added, "I hated it."

"Oh."

"Do we really need pet names?"

"Nah, I think I'm just going to like calling you mine," Blaine said. "Just one thing," he added  
as Kurt made for the door. "We need to keep the PDAs to a minimum. Mom and Dad might be dealing with this but Granddad... He's going to be a different story."

"I don't want to make this worse for you."

"Too right. You're all about making it up to me today. Which basically makes you my slave."

"Oh you wish," Kurt laughed as Blaine came up behind him, reaching around to open the door. He felt Blaine's breath hot on his neck and he tried to ignore the fluttering in his chest. This was just a red-blooded normal reaction. Just that.

 

*

 

For the most part Blaine's family were fairly accepting of Kurt. It was as he'd said though, they just avoided the issue.

("You got married? Oh, right. So then...")

As tended to happen at parties there was an obvious gender split; the men huddled around with drinks and the women fussed over food and gossiped in the kitchen. And as always tended to happen Kurt gravitated towards the women. Or he was pulled in when they realised his connections in the New York fashion world. One of the two, he wasn't quite sure which one.

Every so often Blaine would appear to grab another drink, checking that his "husband" was fine. Kurt just laughed, reassured Blaine that he was managing just fine, and then sent him on his way. Eventually he managed to drag himself away from them, promising to send them advance copies of the New York fall edition, finding Blaine outside on the patio.

"You OK?" he asked.

"So apparently I need to make a speech," Blaine sighed, staring at the piece of paper in front of him. "Joys of being an only child."

"Want a hand? I wrote all the speeches for Dad's wedding. Of course then Finn went off script but it worked out OK."

"I'm used to talking to fourteen year olds. Their attention span is a little difference, as are their interests."

"I bet you're great at your job," Kurt said, pulling up a chair next to him.

"I'm not that bad..."

"Which means you're great. Teachers are notoriously self-deprecating."

"Next time we have an inspection, can you be there?"

"For better or worse," Kurt joked, picking up the pen and scribbling some notes. "Bet you have all the teenage girls lusting after you though."

"Kurt Hummel," Blaine teased, "I never would have thought you were the sexist type."

"Oh I'm sure a couple of the boys like you too," Kurt replied, still working on the paper, "but in that 'he's alright' kind of way. And the odd kid who's a bit confused by it all but will be OK in the long run."

"Like we were?"

Kurt looked up and smiled at Blaine. "I think we did OK. Have a read over this and let me know. It's pretty generic stuff but you can add in the odd bit about your parents that will make them think you wrote it."

"Kurt..." Blaine said as he read over it.

It was just his name, something he'd been hearing his whole life, but the way that Blaine said it made his chest tighten a little. The longer _u_ sound, the click of the _t_. Blaine managed to make his name sound as if it were worthy of worship, as if he was.

But it was just a name, it was one syllable. It didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything.

 

*

 

Kurt hung back as Blaine was ushered up to the front. He rustled his notes nervously, glancing around the crowd. Kurt noticed the obvious flinch and followed Blaine's gaze to an older man in an impeccable suit. Granddad Anderson. The likeness down the male line was obvious but the differences were there too. Blaine's head of curls clearly a maternal influence, as were the kinder eyes that now sought him out in the crowd.

Kurt raised his glass in both a toast and a sign of support, giving Blaine the courage to speak.

"Thirty years," he began. "That's a lifetime – that's more than my lifetime! But through all that my parents have created a union that has withstood the test of time.

"But marriage isn't just about how long two people stay together. It's about what they do with that relationship. They built a home in which to raise a child, taught him to stand on his own two feet and be his own person. Because of them I am who I am.

"As kids we look to our parents as a benchmark for our relationships. They are our first example of what unconditional love is like. And it's not about lasting the distance, it's not about sharing likes and dislikes. It's about working through the hard times together. About wanting to be there even if it's easier to walk away.

"My parents have had their tough times but they worked through it together. They were they for me when I needed them most and have always wanted the best for me. More than that though they let me be my own person.

"When I first asked Dad what it was he did for a living he explained it to me the best he could. He explained to his eight year old son about investments, about how sometimes they work out and you get more than you put in, and sometimes they don't. But you don't give up when things don't work out. You make sure you have enough to keep going and that's what you do. You keep going."

Blaine had been looking around the crowd but now his eyes landed on Kurt and he couldn't tear his gaze away. "Life throws us curve balls and puts us in situations we don't expect. The real measure of a relationship is how you deal with those curve balls. You can stand there and do nothing or you can try the swing. You might strike out but at least you tried. You don't run, you don't hide. You stand up and you deal with it.

"You don't make it to thirty days, never mind thirty years, if you don't. When you find someone that you're willing to spend your life with then you need to share your whole life with them. The good bits and the bad bits. There's a reason that 'for better or for worse' is in the traditional vows!

"You forgive their mistakes because they'll forgive yours. You accept their flaws because they'll accept yours. You listen because they will when you talk and you talk things through. And if you do that? Then you can make anything work out, even if you didn't plan it."

Kurt's mouth went dry; that wasn't in his notes for the speech. And surely Blaine wasn't talking to him? about them? They'd certainly not planned getting married but they'd done nothing but talk since. Their conversations were open and honest – likes and dislikes and flaws and strengths. And not once had they judged or condemned the other. They accepted the other because there was no reason not to.

Did Blaine want this to work out? Did he want this _marriage_ to work out? Because... he might be OK with that. Maybe. Oh god he didn't know anymore.

 

*

 

After the speech Granddad Anderson accosted Blaine, sweeping him off to the side of the room where a glass of champagne was pressed into his hands. Kurt wanted to go in and rescue him but Mrs Anderson appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and gently held his arm.

"I'd leave them be if I were you," she said gently. "Their relationship is... complicated."

"He knows Blaine is gay, right?"

"Knowing it and acknowledging it can be two different things."

"Like father like son then," Kurt muttered under his breath.

"Things are difficult for Blaine," she said, "and as much as you might want them to be different they won't be fixed overnight. If you and Blaine are in this for the long haul then you really need to accept that. I get that you're out and proud, and Blaine's told us how supporting your family is. Don't think I'm not pleased for you but our family doesn't work like that."

"No, you just want him to creep back into the closet."

"Sometimes in a relationship you need to find a compromise. And some things won't be forever."

"And what if there is no compromise to be found?" Kurt asked. "What if this goes against every cell in my body?"

"Then you need to balance that against how you feel about Blaine. And he needs to balance you against us. He's my son, Kurt, he's my flesh and blood. I look at him and I see so much of me in there to balance out the Anderson contribution. I want him to be happy and I want what's best for him, no matter what that might be.

"But you need to consider that too. If you force his hand, if you make him – or God forbid, let him – do something he will regret then will the consequences of that be worth the outcome? What's going to make him happy in the long term?"

Kurt actually turned himself so he was facing Mrs Anderson full on. Her face was full of compassion but it was guarded, hidden behind concern and wariness.

"My husband and I have been married for thirty years, hopefully we'll make it to forty. But who knows? We've seen so many people get married and get divorced but there has always been a constant for them. Family. The thing about us, Kurt, is that providing those bridges have not been burned then we will always be there for our own. Whatever happens in their lives."

For one moment Kurt wondered if she knew, but after reassuring himself that there was no way she could he forced himself to nod. "I understand."

"Good," she smiled, her eyes lighting up. "Like I said though, things aren't forever. One day things will be different as they always are. One day you two couldn't have gotten married, now look at you. Change in your lifetime. And all it took was a bit of patience."

And with that she left Kurt standing by himself, staring at the space his "husband" had been.

 

*

 

Kurt met Blaine's cousin who promptly hugged him upon finding out that he was indeed Blaine's husband, then dragged him into the kitchen where she fished out a bottle of vodka and some shot glasses. Two shots in and Kurt's memory reminded him of exactly what had happened last time.


	2. Chapter 2

_"OK, one shot for each sad story," Kurt said, filling up their shot glasses._

_"Is this supposed to be a drinking game?" Blaine asked._

_"Nope, a way of stopping us getting too maudlin. Or if we do then we get so drunk we don't care."_

_"I like this game."_

_"Adam taught it to me."_

_"Adam?"_

_"My ex."_

_"I sense a bad story," Blaine said. "Drink."_

_"If I'm drinking this anyway I get to tell the story."_

_"Fine."_

_"It's pretty short actually. I wanted us to get married. He didn't. So many years of my life building up to... nothing. And you know the worst part? I knew it. I knew it, deep down. I knew Adam wouldn't ask me, I knew we'd never do it. And I knew that it would break us because that's what these things tend to do and I did nothing. So I dragged it out for longer than I needed to._

_"The worst part?" Kurt said, lifting the glass to his lips. "I wasn't even sad when we split up. Not properly."_

_"I was when my ex dumped me," Blaine said as he watched Kurt take his drink. "Nothing like coming home to find a note saying 'Been fucking someone else, bye!'."_

_Kurt spluttered. "Is that what the note actually said?"_

_"Yup," Blaine said, downing his shot. "Paul wasn't one to pull punches."_

_"Shit."_

_"Your turn."_

_"My best friend and brother used to date. When they split up they actually had a custody battle over me."_

_"Not sad. Well, yeah, it's sad. But not that kind of sad. Who won?"_

_"I did. I disowned them both." When Blaine laughed he grinned. "Took them two months to apologise. We get on OK now."_

_"You're making me grateful I'm an only child."_

_"I was for a long time, Finn's my step-brother."_

_"You two get on?"_

_"Yeah, we do."_

_"Then that is not a sad story." Blaine downed another shot. "What? My sad story is my family."_

_"You being an only child is not shot worthy, Blaine. You're cheating."_

_"Trust me, I'm not."_

_"If you're drinking then you need to tell me the story."_

_"I'd need the whole bottle. And that would kill me."_

_"Blaine."_

_"Seriously. Alcohol poisoning is no joke. You have no idea how many young adults die each year due to it."_

_"And you do?"_

_"I teach."_

_"High School?"_

_"Junior High," Blaine said._

_"Are they starting young in...?"_

_"California? No. But they have older brothers and sisters and cousins. One of my kids lost their brother during his first year at college. We had assemblies and a counsellor and everything."_

_"You've avoided the question," Kurt said as Blaine topped up his shot glass. "What about your family?"_

_"Too much to talk about," he said, downing another shot._

 

*

 

The memory was clear and vivid, as was the emotion that came with it. In that moment Kurt had felt nothing but empathy for Blaine, had wanted nothing more than to wrap him up and hold him and protect him. Here was a man who clearly came from hell and it was down to his family.

"Excuse me," Kurt said, pushing to stand and feeling his head swim a little, "but I need to go and find my... Blaine," he said, mindful of the company.

"You do that," Kaitlyn said. "Find your Blaine."

Kurt couldn't help but laugh as he left the kitchen. Maybe the Andersons weren't all shot-worthy.

 

*

 

"And this is...?"

As Kurt walked up to them Granddad Anderson asked the question in a tone that betrayed his disapproval.

"I'm Kurt," he said, offering one hand to Mr Anderson Sr. and slipping the other around Blaine's waist. He tried not to smile at the physical recoil and lowered his unshaken hand. "You're wanted, Blaine."

"Right, OK," Blaine stammered. He didn't know who wanted him but he didn't care. "We'll talk soon, Granddad, yeah?"

"Count on it."

Kurt and Blaine turned and left the room as quickly as they could without actually running. They bypassed the rest of the party and headed upstairs to their room.

"Thank you!" Blaine laughed as he fell onto the bed. "I love my granddad, I do, but after five minutes..."

"I'd have been there sooner had your cousin not waylaid me with vodka," Kurt said. "But it had a benefit," he said before relaying to Blaine everything he'd remembered. "Guess I understand why you were drinking for family."

"You really upset Granddad you know," Blaine said, sitting up on the bed but leaning back on his arms.

"Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"Don't be sorry!" Blaine said. "Been wanting to... Standing up to Dad was one thing but Granddad?"

"I don't want to cost you and your family anything."

"You've been talking to Mom," Blaine said, looking at Kurt through darkening eyes. "I don't want you to worry about that. We'll be fine."

"I'm not worried about them, I'm worried about you. You're drunk, Anderson."

"Survival mechanism."

"Not recommended."

"You don't know what it's like, Kurt."

"I'm getting an idea, Blaine."

"Question eleven," he said suddenly. "Why are you pretending for me? Why do this?"

"Because I want to help. It's my fault you're in this mess in the first place."

"You really want to help?" Blaine asked, pushing so he was sat upright. "Because there's something I want to do."

"What?" Kurt asked. As Blaine got to his feet Kurt felt the hairs stand up on his arm. This felt entirely wrong and so he took half a step backwards. "Blaine..."

"Imagine it. The whole room just _smelling_ of us, of sex. I spent the night with my husband under this roof. And he'd know. They'd all know. Not that they'd have the courage to ask or say anything but they'd _know_..."

By now Blaine was almost on top of Kurt, hands grabbing at his waist and pulling him in close.

"Blaine..." Kurt hissed, trying to push him away but only succeeding in opening his neck to Blaine's attack. "Blaine!"

"Come on, Kurt..." Blaine mouthed along Kurt's neck, hands gripping firmly at his waist. "Not as if we've not done this before."

"Yeah, and we were so drunk we don't remember it."

"So here's our chance to put that right. Do it right."

One of Blaine's hands moved down to Kurt's ass, pulling him in close and for one second Kurt's brain gave in, allowed himself to run off with the fantasy.

"No, no, no..." Kurt said finally, getting his hands between their bodies and pushing Blaine away. "We can't do this."

Blaine's face crumpled in rejection and Kurt realised instantly that this was something he had a lot of experience in. He followed Blaine to the bed, sitting beside him.

"Look, it's not that... This is supposed to mean something, right? You mean more than some cheap fumble for the sake of winding up some narrow minded relative. You matter, Blaine."

"But not enough for you to do this for me?"

"I'm playing the role of your husband, I will hold your hand and kiss you and make up whatever headcanon you want for our relationship. I will be what you need me to be to get through this party but I'm not...

"Sex should mean something to you, Blaine, to us. It should be something we want to do rather than something we do to annoy others."

Blaine looked up at Kurt, a small smile on his face. "It should mean something to _us_?"

"You know what I mean," Kurt laughed, running his hand down Blaine's back. "I'm not... rejecting you, OK?"

"So you want to sleep with me?"

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "You are not going to let this go, are you?"

"Hey, for the first time _ever_ I have a gay guy in my room with the door shut. A gorgeous gay guy. My 'husband'. And you just told me that you're not against the idea of sleeping with me. I'm calling this a bit of a win."

"You think I'm gorgeous?" Kurt asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know you are," Blaine laughed.

"You're not that bad yourself."

"But you won't have sex with me?"

"OK, let's be clear about this. It would be petty, your Granddad will _know_ we did it for effect because his feelings about us are pretty clear. And we're not actually a proper..."

"A proper couple," Blaine finished. "No, it's fine, I get it."

Blaine got up, stumbling a little under the effect of the alcohol he'd consumed. Kurt was a little quicker to his feet, stopping Blaine from leaving the room.

"Sit back down, Blaine..."

"No, it's fine. I get the message, Kurt. You don't want me, this marriage was a mistake, I'm just one big mistake..."

"Hey, hey, no. No, OK?" Kurt said, grabbing Blaine by the shoulders and forcing him to stop. "Why would you think that?"

"Why doesn't anyone want me for who I am?" Blaine asked, his face falling as quickly as the tears had started to.

"Blaine..." Kurt breathed, pulling him into a tight hug. He felt Blaine push against him, fighting the embrace but he held on tightly until Blaine was clinging to him. "It'll be OK, I promise you."

"My parents are so scared about what Granddad will do that I can't..."

"It won't be forever, love," Kurt whispered, running a hand down the back of Blaine's head. "And it'll be worth the wait, I promise. Just like everything else you and I have had to fight for... Someone to love us, somewhere where we can be out on a date and not be constantly looking over our shoulders..." Kurt pulled back to look at Blaine, grabbing his left hand and holding it up. "The chance to get married. We just had to wait."

"When I was a kid," Blaine sniffed, wiping his cheeks haphazardly, "I hated the wait for Christmas Day. All the presents would be there and once the whole Santa mystery was done with I didn't know why we couldn't just open everything now. And she'd tell me that the best things in life came to those who waited."

"Good advice," Kurt whispered.

"I'm sick of waiting though. I've been waiting twenty six years to be myself."

Kurt's hands moved to hold Blaine's face before he brought their faces closer together. "You are already yourself," he whispered. "You're just waiting for the world to catch up and realise how amazing you are."

"Thank you," Blaine said.

"Question thirteen," Kurt whispered, "and I really need you to say yes to it."

"What is it?"

"Will you give me two days?"

"For what?"

"Nu uh," Kurt smiled. "Give me two days. We'll stay here tonight but from tomorrow lunchtime you're all mine for forty-eight hours."

"Yes, OK. I'm trusting you here."

"Promise I won't let you down," Kurt said, pulling Blaine into a tight hug. "For better or worse. And we've done worse so..."

When they were missed at the party and looked for, Kaitlyn knocked hesitantly on their bedroom door to find them asleep on top of the covers, curled around each other.

 

*

 

The first thing Blaine was aware of when consciousness crept over him was just how safe he felt. The warm body next to him was moulded perfectly into the curve of his chest and he breathed in deeply, recognising the scent that had become part of his world.

Being here with Kurt like this? It felt like something he could do for the rest of his life. It felt like something he should have been doing for a long time. For a second Blaine allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy; lying in bed with his _husband_ , the day just beginning. Moments like this when one woke before the other and they were content to just lie there and wait, to just be close to the other.

But that's all it was, a fantasy. Taking a deep breath (and one last lungful of Kurt) Blaine extracted himself from the bed and slipped out of the room. There was no one up this early so he put on the coffee pot and made some toast. He rescued the paper from where it had been thrown onto the front lawn and set himself up on the breakfast bar. He was halfway through the second cup when Kurt joined him.

"Fresh pot," Blaine said, gesturing to the machine humming away in the corner.

"Whoa," Kurt breathed as he took in something he'd not seen outside of a coffee shop.

"Yeah, Mom has no idea what half the buttons do. I learned how to make basic coffee and that's that."

"Basic coffee sounds good," Kurt smiled. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"...Embarrassed," he settled on, looking down at the paper and pretending to be engrossed in the latest stocks and shares.

"Blaine," Kurt said gently, pulling up a chair next to his "husband". "Look at me." When Blaine didn't Kurt put his hand on top of the paper to distract him before lifting up and cupping his jaw. "It's fine."

"I basically... assaulted you."

"No you didn't. You backed off when I said no, that means it wasn't assault."

"I shouldn't have..."

"But I know why you did. I can't imagine what it was like for you, growing up in this house under these... rules. But yesterday? I was pretty proud of you."

"Why?"

"Because you stood up there and you made the most amazing speech. And then you went and directed half of it at me, your _husband_. You didn't just bring another man into this house, you brought a husband. Someone you shared a room with last night."

"We fell asleep on the bed," Blaine pointed out. "Fully clothed."

"Yeah. So if anyone did come and look for us they saw that. We didn't need to... y'know," Kurt said slightly coyly, "for a difference to be made. You don't need to shove it down their throats. Just be you, don't ever apologise for it, and progress will be made.

"Most of your family seemed pretty OK with it, and I think your cousin may actually turn out to be one of your biggest supporters. Your mom and dad will come around, eventually, and..." He sighed gently, slipping off the high chair to stand next to him. "I promise it will be OK."

Blaine met Kurt's gaze and he couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He reached out and took Kurt's hand, mouthing a simple 'thank you' which didn't fully convey the level of his gratitude. Having him here, even if it was somewhat pretend, was giving him a confidence that he'd not felt within these walls since he was a kid.

Kurt gave Blaine's hand a gentle squeeze and he leaned over. It took Blaine a second to realise that he was about to be kissed and so he pushed up slightly from his seat to meet Kurt's mouth. It was gentle at first, the simple pressure of lips on lips. Blaine's free hand lifted to cup Kurt's jaw, holding him in place as he parted his lips a little. Kurt responded, allowing Blaine's tongue to push against his mouth.

Their clasped hands parted, reaching out to hold the other. Blaine felt his fingers run along the hem of Kurt's tee, brushing the exposed skin. He felt Kurt shiver a little under his touch and emboldened he slipped his hand under the clothing, feeling the soft skin under his fingertips.

Then there was a gentle cough to one side, breaking into the narrative forming in Blaine's mind.

"Don't mind me, boys," Mr Anderson said as he stepped into the kitchen.

Kurt barely pulled back from Blaine, a small smile on his face. "Sorry," he said to Blaine's father. "I'm... gonna go use the bathroom." He moved in closer to Blaine, sliding their cheeks together. "Be you... with added kisses," he whispered in his ear. "Just to make the point."

For effect he placed a gentle kiss by his ear before walking off. Blaine dropped back onto the seat in shock. Kurt had clearly seen or heard Mr Anderson coming and initiated the kiss so they would get caught. That's all it was. Something to make the point, to reinforce the idea.

He held onto his mug and tried not to think about how deeply he was getting. He barely knew Kurt. They'd woken up, as strangers, together in Vegas a couple of days ago. Just because they'd gotten married while drunk did not mean they were in a relationship. It did not mean they should be in one either.

He barely knew Kurt. This was... nothing. It had to be nothing. They were getting a divorce and then Kurt would have his life in New York and Blaine would go back to his life in Los Angeles and they would probably never see each other again, or maybe make it to the other's Christmas card list and anyway from what Kurt had said Blaine was nothing like Adam which meant he clearly wasn't his type and Blaine had let himself get lost in a kiss that probably meant nothing to Kurt.

Well fuck.

 

*

 

As they loaded their bags into the car Kurt held his hand out for the keys. "You're mine for two days, remember?" he said.

"Do I at least get a hint?"

"Nope," Kurt grinned as the keys were dropped into his palm. "Go say goodbye."

Blaine walked back to the front door where his parents were waiting. "I'll call you when I get home."

"Won't be home for much longer though," his mom said. "At least New York is closer."

"Yeah, it might take a while to sort," Blaine said, remembering their cover story. "I don't want to move without sorting out a job and I need to give the school enough notice..."

"Oh love, a long distance marriage?" she said, pulling her son into a hug. "It won't last."

"What?"

"You'll be in New York by Christmas. I just know it."

Blaine said nothing, just stepped back from the hug and turned to his father. "Thank you," he said.

"You take care," he said, holding out his hand. "And make sure that Kurt treats you right."

"I will, Dad," he said.

"I'm glad you found someone... It's clear how much he... cares... And you..."

Despite the fact he was stumbling, Blaine recognised the sentiment for what it was. He threw himself into a hug before he could think too much about it. "Thank you, Dad," he whispered.

"You're my son. I just want you to be happy. And he makes you happy."

Blaine's chest clenched as he tried not to think about the lie. Or the fact that he was really starting to wish it wasn't a lie.

 

*

 

Blaine soon gave up with his questions about where they were going and soon the car lapsed into a comfortable silence. Kurt focussed on the road ahead, a route he knew like the back of his hand, in an effort not to think too much about the last twenty four hours.

It had been too easy to play the role, to allow himself to be Blaine's "husband". The natural intimacy between them, the little touches and looks and smiles, it had all come without any thought. And that scared Kurt.

With Adam it had built up and for a long time Kurt had been unsure about ever holding hands with him in public. With Blaine it was different. He'd fucking kissed Blaine, properly kissed him. Without a second thought or hesitation he'd leaned over and kissed him and Blaine's hand had been on his skin, under his top and it had made him shiver in the most delightful way and the places his mind had been going? If they'd not been interrupted by Mr Anderson's arrival then who knows where they would have ended up.

But this was pretend, they had been playing a role. He'd screwed things up for Blaine and had to play the role of husband. It wasn't as if Blaine wanted this, had asked him to do it. They'd gotten drunk and gotten married and they were getting a divorce. That was all there was to it and Kurt wasn't going to think about it anymore. Because he couldn't.

He couldn't read too much into the ease that he felt with Blaine, an ease that was never there with Adam. He couldn't read too much into the fact that they'd spent the last two nights wrapped up around each other (Adam always took the first opportunity to roll away). And he certainly wasn't reading _anything_ into the things his body had done when he and Blaine had kissed. Things he'd felt in the early days with Adam, when times were great and it was all about feelings.

There was no reading into this because there was nothing to read into. At best he and Blaine were friends (and barely that). And Blaine clearly wanted nothing more. He'd only wanted Kurt to make a point, he'd made no real moves himself. Kurt had played a role and been there for support. That was it.

Despite all that he couldn't just drive them to New York and wave Blaine off. He needed to do this, to show Blaine how things could be. How they should have been.

 

*

 

They pulled up outside some garage and Blaine looked at Kurt in confusion. "Is there something wrong with the car?"

"Nope," he grinned, undoing his belt and opening the door. "Come on."

"Kurt!" Blaine protested but followed him anyway.

There was no sign above the garage but Blaine spotted a make-shift one declaring this was "Hudmel Tires and Lube". Blaine broke into a quick run to catch up with Kurt but wasn't in time to be there before Kurt was pulled into a tight hug by a tall man.

"Oh Finn, this is Blaine. Blaine? This is my brother Finn," Kurt said as he was released from the hug and noticed Blaine standing there.

"Oh, right!" Blaine said, looking up (up, _up_ ) at Finn and finally remembering to hold out his hand. "Hi, yes, you're Kurt's brother."

Finn laughed and nudged Kurt. "Glad to see you've landed a smart one."

"Shut up," Kurt growled. "Play nice, I'm going up to the office."

"So..." Finn grinned when they were left alone. "You and Kurt?"

"Oh no," Blaine said quickly. "No. We're... not."

"Shame," Finn said. "He's been moping over Assem too long."

"As... what?" Blaine spluttered.

"Don't tell him I said that," Finn said, holding up a wrench in a mock threatening manner. "But yeah, Adam was an ass. Like, really. I know Kurt was all into him and I made an effort 'cause he's my brother, but never liked the guy. Too... distant. He'd come visit and the only time he made any contact with any of us was if he happened to brush against us in the hallway. Like he was too good for us."

"Kurt's only said good things about him," Blaine said.

"He would," Finn continued. "He wanted to marry the guy. Tell you what, never been so relieved to see a relationship go wrong and I swear if you breathe a word of this to Kurt..."

Blaine held his hands up in mock surrender and grinned. "You need a hand?" he said, glancing over at the car Finn was working on.

"You know about cars?"

"My dad and I rebuilt a '59 Chevy one summer," he said. "I know enough."

"I was like that when I started working here, now look at me. My name's gonna be up there."

"Is that why there's no sign?"

"Yeah, Burt's getting it changed. Pretty big deal given I'm not his kid."

"Yes you are," boomed a voice from across the shop, "and I don't wanna hear you say anything like that again."

"Yes boss," Finn grinned, turning back to the car.

Blaine quickly filled in the gaps and when he turned around he knew beyond all doubt that this was Mr Hummel. Kurt's father. He felt his head swim as panic set in. His whole body geared up for the fight or flight reaction and he wondered how it would look if he just took off now. But Kurt had brought him here, on purpose, and so clearly he had a plan. Oh god, a two day plan? Blaine was going to be in hell, this could not get any worse.

"So you married my other kid in Vegas, huh?" Burt said as he strode over to them.

Blaine was aware of Finn dropping the tool, swearing as he hit his head on the bonnet.

He was wrong.

 

*

 

"Sorry," Kurt said the second they were alone in the car. "Me and Dad... Total honesty, always has been."

"Little warning would have been nice," Blaine said. "I thought Finn was going to kill me."

"He probably was," Kurt laughed. "You went and told him we weren't a couple..."

"We're not!" Blaine protested, ignoring the lump in his throat.

"You promised me two days," Kurt reminded him. "Look, if you really want to go, if you want me to take you to the bus station so you can run for the hills then I will. But I think you need this."

"Need what?"

"Need to know what it's like to be in a house where you're accepted, where no one really cares if you're gay or straight or whatever."

"Kurt..." It came out in a breath, as if he'd not actually meant to say it but he couldn't help himself.

"Dad doesn't want to kill you and Finn? He'll get his head around it. And Carole's shift ends at two and she's got tomorrow off so it's perfect. We can have some proper family time and you are going to love it."

"They're not my family," Blaine said quietly.

Kurt reached over and grabbed Blaine's hand in his. "You're my husband and as long as you are they're your family too. That's kinda how we work. You not noticed how I call Finn my brother? And I may call her Carole but she's..."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah."

"What happened to her?" Blaine asked. "That's not one of my questions by the way. You don't have to answer it."

"It was a long time ago, Blaine. I've kinda adjusted. She died when I was eight. First time I realised that life wasn't fair. She'd been working late at the store and was on her way home when some idiot boy racer jumped a red light. Days going back and forth from the hospital and we all thought she was gonna be OK. Came through the operations fine but then a stupid clot breaks free and it was over so quick."

Blaine gripped the hand he was holding tightly and didn't want to let Kurt go – ever.

"It was hard for me and Dad, but we coped. Just. And then I introduce him to Carole and suddenly I've got a family again."

"I'm really pleased for you," Blaine said, loosening his grip on Kurt so he could reclaim his hand. "And I'm looking forward to meeting Carole."

"Fair warning," Kurt said as they pulled up onto a driveway, "she hugs."

 

*

 

It took Blaine almost three minutes to fully extract himself from Carole's grasp. There was the 'nice to meet you' hug and the 'I'm sorry about your family' hug and then the extended 'OH MY GOD WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU TWO GOT MARRIED?!' one. She, like Burt, had decided to ignore the fact that they planned to get a divorce, that it was a drunken event and not one they would have probably entered into sober. The marriage was temporary and they were not staying together because they didn't love each other.

Kurt really should have remembered that his parents were pretty smart and clued in people.

 

*

 

Kurt insisted on carrying Blaine's case, leading him along the hall to the spare room. "It used to be Finn's actually," he said apologetically, "so if there's any lingering smell... He moved out a few years ago, something about being his own man I guess."

"Nothing wrong with that," Blaine said.

"Bathroom's down the hall, towels in the linen closet. If you stand on ceremony in this house you will starve but that'll mean that Carole will have stopped fussing. She's got me back for a couple of nights and she's got a son-in-law to obsess over..."

"They are taking this marriage thing far too seriously," Blaine laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Is it too much? I can ask them to stop," Kurt said, his face falling. "They just mean well."

"I'm getting that," Blaine laughed. "It's actually lovely. They're lovely. I'm starting to realise why you're the way that you are."

"Carole's my step-mom remember?"

"Doesn't mean she's not had an influence," Blaine said, moving his head a little so he could keep Kurt's gaze.

"I should let you get settled."

"You've shown me my room, brought my case up. I know where the bathroom is... Think I'm set."

"Well if you need anything I'm just next door. I mean, my room is... Not that you'll need..." Kurt stammered, suddenly flustered. "What the hell do you do to me, Blaine Anderson?" he laughed.

"Something good I hope?"

The mood shifted to something a little more dangerous. The air seemed full of hope and uncertainty and it would have been so, so easy for them to just let things take over.

Instead they heard Carole call out, "Lunch is ready!" and the mood was shattered. Saying nothing they headed downstairs to find the table groaning under the weight of food.

"Your dad's arranged cover," Carole said as she brought yet another plate over, "so he and Finn can be about."

"He didn't have to do that," Kurt said, eyeing up the spread to make sure that there was stuff suitable for his dad's diet.

"Yeah I did," Burt said, giving Blaine his second start of the day. "Gotta make the most of the time with my boys." As he said that he clapped a hand onto Blaine's shoulder making it clear that he was included in that.

 

*

 

After lunch Blaine was dragged into the lounge with Finn to watch a game. When they couldn't find one live on TV they pulled up an old favourite on the TVR and yelled along as if it were the first time they'd seen it. Carole and Kurt played the perfect hosts, bringing them drinks and snacks. And every time Kurt saw Blaine being adopted by his dad and brother it made his heart soar.

"You like him," Carole said once they were safely in the kitchen.

"What?"

"Blaine. You really like him."

"I barely know him."

"Doesn't stop you liking someone, sweetheart. There's a reason why there's so many stories and songs about love at first sight."

Kurt glared at her. "You know I don't believe in that."

"Yeah, but there's an attraction there."

"So what if there is? He's a nice bloke. We've got a lot in common..."

"You're avoiding the question," Carole smiled, pushing the mug of chai tea across to Kurt. "You like him."

"It doesn't matter," Kurt said quietly, cupping the mug in his hands.

"Why not?"

"Because he's not... He's not for me, OK?"

"Give me one reason why not."

"How about several? He lives on the other side of the country. I've just come out of a very long term relationship. We were drunk when we got married and we still don't remember most of that night. We have no idea if we're compatible on the big issues and that's before I get to his tragic wardrobe!"

"People move, you and Adam were over ages ago, we lose our inhibitions when drunk and therefore are more likely to do what we want, you seem to be getting on pretty well and I'm sure you can cure him with a few shopping trips," Carole replied in one breath, taking a self-satisfied sip of tea when she was finished.

"It's not going to happen, Carole," Kurt said forcefully. "We've talked about this, we're getting a divorce."

"But that's not what you want, is it?"

"It's what's right," he said. "You don't always get what you want, just ask Dad. He wants cheeseburgers and hot wings once a week but we both know that he'd be on the fast track to the transplant list if he got it. And he knows it too which is why he puts up with our salads and grilled chicken."

"Doesn't mean he doesn't get a treat once in a while," Carole pointed out.

"I hope you're not comparing my _husband_ a potentially life-threatening treat?" Kurt teased, but his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I'm just saying," Carole said, "that if your dad could have what he wanted then he would. Life's made it clear that's not an option so he's working within the lines that have been drawn for him. Don't go drawing ones you don't have to, OK? Especially when it will put Blaine on the wrong side of them."

 

*

 

Blaine didn't think anything when Burt sent Finn out to the garage in search of drinks. He didn't think anything of it when he turned down the volume on the commercials.

"So you and my son," Burt said without preamble. "You like him."

"I... We... We barely know each other," Blaine stammered.

"So? Doesn't take long to know if you like someone."

"Why do I feel like this is a trick question?"

"No tricks here, kid," Burt laughed, "I'm too old for all that. I'm also the kind of person who gets straight to the point, you OK with that?"

"Yes sir," Blaine said.

"First thing then. It's Burt. We ain't in the army and you're not my bank manager. So lose the sir business."

"Yes Mr Hummel."

Burt sighed. "Kurt was right, your family really are something else. Your dad teach you that level of respect?"

"It was expected," Blaine said. "Lots of important business clients at the house when I was growing up."

"Well there's no one here to impress," Burt said. "Except maybe me. But you do have something going in your favour."

"What's that?"

"You really care about my boy," Burt said plainly.

Blaine's smile was wide and honest and his voice filled with warmth. "He's great. He offered to drive me up here and what he did at my parents'? I'm never going to forget it. He's got the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met and he doesn't care what people think about him. He talks about his work like I've heard parents talk about their kids. He's worked on his sketches when we've had breaks or when we've had a spare moment and he never thinks they're finished but I've never seen anything so beautiful.

"He stood up to my Granddad and that's something I've never managed to do. And more than that he gave me the courage to do the same. I have no idea what's going to happen but I'm never going to regret it. I'm never going to regret meeting him."

"Only divorcing him," Burt said.

"What?"

"You'll regret divorcing him."

"It's not as if we can stay married," Blaine said. "For one thing we live on different sides of the country."

"I thought you were going back to New York with him?"

"We're sharing the driving, I'm flying home from there."

"People move all the time, Blaine. You can teach in New York."

"You make it sound so simple."

"It isn't," Burt said with a shrug. "So there's no sense in making things more complicated."

"But Kurt..."

"Cares about you," Burt finished. "I know my boy, Blaine. He's putting a lot of time and effort into you and he doesn't do that for just anyone."

"He just wants me to know what an accepting family is like."

"You believe that if you want. Saw through that line in a heartbeat. Kurt _married_ you, Blaine. And I don't care how drunk you were. For some things there's not enough alcohol in the world."

"It doesn't matter," Blaine said firmly but quietly. "Some things are what they are."

"Yeah," Burt said, "they are."

As he turned up the volume on the TV Blaine felt like he'd lost an argument he didn't know he'd been having. Finn returned a minute later, declaring that he'd been unable to find any drinks in the garage. When Burt "remembered" that he'd brought them in the day before Blaine realised the set up for what it was.

 

*

 

Burt had insisted on taking them out for dinner and so they'd gone to Breadstix. Blaine had been there a couple of times with his family and they wondered, not for the first time, how they'd managed to live so many years of their lives so close and not have their paths cross. At that point Carole had pointed out that she and Burt had lived their whole lives in Lima, raised boys and sent them to the same school, but it wasn't until Kurt introduced them that their paths crossed. Fate had a funny way of working sometimes.

Burt made Blaine and Kurt sit together, pushing them along the booth's seat maybe a little further than needed so they were pretty much sat on top of each other. After a glare from Carole he relented a little, shifting to give them some more space.

They didn't part as much as they could have done though.

Finn said his goodbyes at the restaurant, heading off to his own place. Sat in the backseat of his dad's car, Kurt tried not to look at Blaine, his face intermittently lit by the passing street lights. He didn't want to draw that line but he needed to. He wasn't about to attach himself to another guy who didn't want the same things.

 

*

 

There was a soft knock on the bedroom door and Blaine looked up to see Kurt pushing it open.

"Just wanted to check you had everything," he said.

"I'm fine, thank you."

"I know we said two days but if you wanted to head off tomorrow I'd understand."

"You're giving me an out twelve hours in? That doesn't sound like the Kurt Hummel I have come to know."

"Yeah, well, I kinda landed you in it. I just thought..."

"Thank you," Blaine said, his voice warm.

"So... You OK to stick around? Dad's talking about something involving cars and I could really use a wing man."

"So long as he's not trying to make me straight," Blaine laughed.

"Think he'd prefer you stay gay," Kurt replied. "Night, Blaine."

"Night, Kurt."

He closed the door behind him and made the few steps to his room, leaning against the door and trying to steady his heart. "This is stupid," he muttered to himself, starting towards his bed before he realised he'd left his book in Blaine's room. He could leave it there but somehow he found himself back in the hallway, pushing open the door again. "Sorry I..."

Kurt stopped when Blaine jumped up, clearly having been caught out over something. It wasn't until Kurt saw Blaine's face, something he was trying to hide, that he realised that he'd been crying.

"Blaine..." he breathed, moving over to him and pulling him into a hug without a second thought.

"You have no idea how lucky you are," Blaine whispered into his shoulder.

"After yesterday? Actually do."

Blaine's grip around Kurt's body tightened a little. "Thank you _so much_ for this."

"See if you're still thanking me tomorrow once Dad really has initiated you into the Hudmel family."

"Yeah, what is it with that? I saw it on a sign at the garage..."

"It's our surnames," Kurt said, pulling back a little. "Hummel and Hudson. Dad gave Finn 45% of the business as a birthday present so it's officially 'Hummel and Hudson Tires and Lube' now. The sign's being changed so Finn mocked that one up. Guess he thought the full thing was too much to write on a bit of cardboard!"

"You don't mind Finn getting the business?"

"Dad did check with me first, but it's not for me. And Finn's done great there since High School. He set Dad up online and now they sell a lot of parts and stuff through that. It was something he could do while at college and... well... do I look like a grease monkey?"

The image of Kurt in overalls and covered in grease sprung into Blaine's mind and while his first reaction was to smile, his second was decidedly less appropriate.

"You OK?" Kurt asked gently, bringing Blaine back to the present.

"I will be. Just... a moment. A good moment though."

"I'm glad," Kurt smiled. He stepped back but pulled on Blaine's hand, leading him to the bed. "But I'd be a bad host if I just abandoned you like this."

"Question thirteen," Blaine said before he could stop himself. "You keep telling me that you and Adam wanted different things... Why didn't you leave sooner?"

Kurt dropped heavily onto the bed and took a deep breath. "Oh. OK."

"It's just what your dad and Carole have been saying it sounds like... like it was over long before it actually was. And that's the point I get out. The second I know it's not going to work I'll get out. I don't just stick around to see it through."

"We'd been together for so long, we lived together... I think... I know that I felt like if I did call it quits then I'd be throwing all that away. All that time and that effort would have been for nothing."

"You wanted to marry him."

"Yeah, I did. Once. I mentioned it once and he acted like I'd suggested we set fire to the couch. I just kept hoping that he'd change his mind. Every birthday or Christmas he'd hide my present and I'd think that this year it'd be a ring. One New Year he actually got down on one knee just as the ball began to drop. He'd dropped his phone and was picking it up but I swear my heart stopped."

"You could have asked him," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah. And he'd have said no and I'd have had proof, undeniable proof that the relationship wasn't going where I wanted it to. So I tried to convince myself that we didn't need to get married. People don't. So many people just live together and they're happy but.."

"That's not you," Blaine finished. "You're a romantic. You want someone to get down on their knee and tell you that they want to spend the rest of their lives with you. You want a Broadway romance and there is nothing wrong with that." When he saw Kurt's bemused look he smiled. "What? I can't have worked you out too?"

"It took Adam years to work that out."

"Which is why I know one thing. Whatever happened in Vegas? It was enough to get you to say yes."

"So you now think you asked me?" Kurt asked, his eyebrow raising. "So I didn't seduce you after all?"

"Did I say that?"

"As good as."

"You can't talk your way out of this, Hummel. I was probably my normal charming self and you were so enamoured with me that you dragged me to the chapel."

"Enamoured?" Kurt laughed.

"Whatever."

"I can see that," he said. "Some great romantic moment..."

"A kiss," Blaine said.

"What? Like at the end of a Disney movie? When the music swells and..."

"No," Blaine cut across him. "Our first kiss." He took Kurt's hands in his and moved them to his chest. "We were laughing about... something, and you put your hands here..." Kurt took Blaine's lead, keeping his hands in place when Blaine let go. "And you were laughing so much you started to cry so I..." He reached out to brush an imaginary tear from Kurt's cheek, letting his fingertips ghost across his skin. "And we couldn't stop looking at each other and then..."

Caught up in the moment or going on instinct Blaine leaned in, pressing his lips to Kurt's. They held it for a bit, letting the memory settle in.

"We were..." Kurt whispered when their mouths parted but their heads stayed close, "trying to decide something. And you were talking about your life in LA."

"I can teach anywhere," Blaine whispered, remembering what he said that night. "I ran to LA and I could run to New York..." The realisation hit and he pulled back from Kurt, scuttling back on the bed away from Kurt. "We were talking about me moving to New York. With you."

"We were deciding whether or not to get married," Kurt realised. "It makes sense. We... actually talked about it. About what to do."

"So it wasn't a drunken spur of the moment?"

Kurt met Blaine's gaze and held it for a long moment. "You OK?" he asked.

"...I think so," Blaine said. "I just... I thought we just did it. You know? On impulse."

"Me too," Kurt said, "but this makes more sense."

"Yeah."

"Does... does this change anything?"

Blaine hesitated for a moment before giving his head a small shake.

"Right. Well. Yes."

"Kurt?" Blaine asked as Kurt made as if to move. "Stay. Please. If it's not too weird."

"Stay?"

"OK, don't judge but... I've kinda got used to you..."

"Yeah, I know," Kurt said, a smile creeping on to his lips. "I'll be right back."

It took him less than a minute to go back to his room and turn off the lights and grab his glass of water. He slipped back into the guest room to find Blaine already under the covers. Feeling like a kid breaking the rules he closed the door and dropped his glass on the table before turning off the lights and climbing into bed. For a moment they lay there, stiff as rods, before one of them shifted a little in the dark and then they were curled around each other as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

 

*

 

Slowly Blaine learned to let his guard down. From the moment he arrived at the garage to be handed a pair of overalls (they were Kurt's and someone had added _'s hubby_ in Sharpie to the name tag – Finn was suspiciously smug about it) he was expecting to have comments or looks thrown at him. Fine, Burt and Finn were cool with it but the other guys?

After an hour of them ignoring him he realised that it wasn't rejection but indifference. A couple of hours later one of them came over and offered to show him how to strip down the engine component he was looking at. They just didn't care what he was, he was the boss' son-in-law and not completely clueless around an engine and that was enough for them.

He wasn't going to cry in the middle of the garage.

Excusing himself on pretence of looking for a part he headed to the stacks at the back. Once out of sight he leant over, bracing his hands on his knees, and took a series of deep breaths.

Burt announced his presence with a cough but it still shocked him a little. "Sorry, kid," he said. "You OK?"

"Yeah," Blaine choked. "I'm good. Like... really good."

"When Kurt first came out it was no big shock. I mean, you just needed to look at him and you'd suspect. Second you heard him talk about Broadway or fashion or whatever then you'd know. But it don't mean it wasn't hard. Like, really hard. I told him I was OK with it but honestly? I wasn't. Not at first.

"You know as well as I do what Ohio is like for gay kids. Probably more than me actually. Kurt said you'd had it hard, nothing more," he added quickly when he saw the panicked look cross Blaine's face, "but I'm not dumb, I can take a pretty good guess what happened to you and that's, that's not right.

"But yeah. I struggled when Kurt came out. Suddenly there's all this hate flyin' around and I copped a bit of it. Really got to me but it got to Kurt more. Time I got an anonymous call he screwed up an audition because he wanted to make life easier for me. He told me he loved me more than being a star. That stuck with me.

"This isn't something either of you chose and me and all the guys here? We know that and we respect it. In these walls you get to be whoever you are. I run a zero tolerance shop and I expect every person, customer, supplier and employee to adhere to it. And they do. The world is changing, kid, and it's for the better."

"Maybe I should bring my granddad down here," Blaine laughed.

"Maybe you should," Burt smiled. "I can't claim to have all the answers though but I can talk to him about worries. Those I know about. I was worried about Kurt, about the life he was going to lead... Things are hard enough for a straight teenager and I got to go through all that with Finn!"

"I understand that, Mr Hum... Burt, I do. But for what it's worth? My firsts meant just as much as the firsts of my straight friends and I'd say that's the same for Kurt. There's no difference in what things mean."

"Well that's good. Because they should. It should all mean something. And I know that makes me old fashioned but that's who I am and I make no apologies for that. I just think it's right that you should do... all that... with someone who means something."

Blaine stood up straight, his face splitting with a grin. "And now I know why Kurt is the way he is," he said with a small laugh. "You have raised an amazing son."

"Don't I know it," Burt grinned. "Which is why I know you're a good kid. Because I raised a boy with taste. Now get your butt back out there. That car's not going to fix itself."

Blaine laughed again and walked back out into the shop, joining Finn and Kurt by the classic car that had been the Hudmel family project for the last seven months.

"What?" Kurt asked when he caught Blaine looking at him.

"I think I love your family," Blaine said quietly.

"I think they love you too," Kurt replied. "But what's not to love?"

Kurt turned back to the car a little too quickly and therefore missed the look that flashed across Blaine's face. He glanced at the amended name tag and decided that if being Kurt's husband came with these kinds of benefits then he was one very lucky guy indeed.

 

*

 

That night he insisted on helping Carole with dinner, cementing his place as part of the family. He refused to act like a guest because they refused to treat him like one. So as soon as Carole had told him what needed doing he ushered her out of the kitchen and set to work.

"I can't believe you cook," Kurt said, watching him from the doorway.

"What? You think I live on takeout in LA?"

"Thought crossed my mind."

"Well be prepared to be proven wrong," Blaine teased, dipping a spoon into the sauce and holding it out for Kurt.

He came over and after blowing on it a little he wrapped his lips around it. "Oh wow," he mumbled around it before swallowing. "That's awesome. And not Carole's recipe."

"How'd you know?"

"Because I taught her. What'd you do to it?"

"Family secret. Can't tell you."

"I'm your husband, what's yours is mine."

"Oh, so you're playing that card now?" Blaine teased.

"Yes. Spill."

"And how do I know you won't leave me as soon as you've had your way with me? You only want me for my kitchen skills."

"I'm sure you have other talents to make me want to keep you around."

"I'm not going to complain. You being around seems to have good consequences for me."

"I'm just glad I could help," Kurt said, "make things a bit better for you."

"You make them a lot better," Blaine replied. "Now get out of my kitchen so I can finish making dinner."

Kurt gave a little nod and moved away to the doorway. He stopped, turning back to watch his husband work, and smiled as he remembered.

 

*

 

_"I want someone who can try and make things better, y'know?" Blaine said. "Isn't that what we all want? Someone who will hold us when we cry, try and make things better even if there's nothing they can do. Someone who will never give up even if things seem impossible._

_"There's a reason why the great romantic movies all have some grand dash or mad scheme in them. That's what people want, right? Someone who goes out of their way for them? But more than that I want someone who reminds me that there's good stuff out there too. That things are OK from time to time because all I seem to see is the bad shit."_

 

*

 

"Question 14," Blaine said without preamble as he kicked Kurt's bedroom door closed behind him. He balanced his drink with the plate of cookies Carole had insisted they take up with them all the way to the bed and then nearly dropped them on the cover. "And no passes on this 'cause I'm curious."

"Go on," Kurt said cautiously, moving the plate so it was out of Blaine's way.

"What do you want for your future?"

"Too vague," Kurt said. "Narrow it down."

"OK. Um... kids?"

"Yeah, maybe," Kurt said. "If I found the right guy to have them with. You?"

"When I got into teaching I always thought it'd put me off. I've got colleagues who argued for months about names because there was always a kid they'd taught with that name. But... yeah. I think I'd like to be a dad one day."

"You'd be great at it."

"You think?"

"You teach. You have to be good with kids for that. Me? I'd be useless."

"Doubt that," Blaine laughed.

"Look at this room, Blaine. It's _pristine_. Dad and Carole turned Finn's room into a guest room but they haven't touched mine. Carole says it's 'cause they want me to feel like I can always come back. And this is what my apartment in New York looks like. Putting a kid in this? My worst nightmare. Plus have you seen children's fashion?"

"You'd learn to cope and you'd have the most fashionable kid in New York," Blaine said, snapping a cookie in two and dunking his half into the hot chocolate. "You'd make them something if you needed to."

"You don't think I'd screw it up?"

"Nope," Blaine smiled. "Fifteen; do you want to stay a fashion writer for the rest of your life?"

"My designs," Kurt sighed.

"Your designs." 

"I don't know. I'd like to but it's getting noticed that's the hard part."

"I get the impression you could do anything you wanted to do if you wanted it badly enough."

"Maybe. What about you? Sticking in the classroom?"

"Until the day I retire," Blaine grinned. "I have no desire to ascend the ranks or anything. I want to teach, I want to stay with the kids. I'm not into the politics or the pressure. I want to be able to come home of a night—"

"To your kids," Kurt interjected.

"—to my kids," Blaine laughed, "and just be there for the day to day stuff."

"See? Perfect dad material right there," Kurt said, sliding the other half of Blaine's cookie from the plate. "Sixteen. The other dad in this picture? Husband?"

"What?"

"See yourself getting married?" Kurt asked, then he realised not only what he'd said but also Blaine's expression. "You know what I mean!"

"You know what? Until... this? I never really saw myself as the marrying kind. I know there was the big campaign and protests and stuff to get marriage equality but it wasn't something I thought about for myself."

"I did," Kurt said quietly, "a lot."

"Just need to find the right man."

"It always seems to come down to that."

"Most things do," Blaine said. "So seventeen. Tell me what you want in a husband."

"You realise this could get awkward quickly if I were to tell you I liked tall blondes who were built like outhouses?"

"No more so when I tell you I like short men who live in jeans and flannel shirts."

"Of all the men out there, I end up with you," Kurt sighed playfully, sipping at the hot chocolate. It was nice being home, being looked after. "Next you'll be telling me you have a complete Disney movie collection." He saw the light in Blaine's eyes and rolled his. "Oh help me..."

"What?" Blaine protested. "They have awesome songs."

"I want an adult, that's what I want in my husband."

"And I want someone who remembers what it was like to be a kid," Blaine countered. "Someone who knows what it's like to have fun."

"I know how to have fun!"

"Does it involve work?" Blaine smirked. "Because that won't count."

"Work can be fun y'know," Kurt laughed.

"I... I want someone who will let me be me. And who's there. Always."

"Someone to remind you of the good stuff in life?" Kurt prompted. When Blaine looked up at him he shrugged. "I remembered something. We were having this discussion in Vegas and you told me what you wanted in a guy."

"Yeah?"

"Not far off what I want," Kurt said before he could stop himself, catching Blaine's eye.

For a moment they did nothing, just watched each other, trying to see something behind covers of brown and glasz. Then Blaine, rather decisively, reached out and moved Kurt's mug to the bedside table. As soon as he'd done that Kurt had caught up and met him in the kiss.

It was slow and gentle at first, reminding them both of the one they'd shared in the Anderson kitchen the other day. But without any interruptions they soon fell into it, hands and tongue and moving bodies so they were pressed up against the other.

"This is..." Kurt said when they parted, his voice shaking as his mind tried to make sense of it. "Blaine..."

"Question eighteen," he said, surprising Kurt. "If we'd met in High School, do you think we'd have been friends?"

"Friends?" Kurt asked, running his fingertips down the side of Blaine's face. "I think I probably could have fallen in love with you."

"Me too," Blaine whispered, his hot breath on Kurt's mouth. "So what about now?"

"Now?"

"You. Me. This. Us."

"I..." Kurt began before moving in for another kiss.

He tried to put every thought and feeling into it, trying to convey to Blaine just how much he wanted this, wanted him, wanted to stay married to him and live in New York with their kids while Blaine taught and he designed. And how scared he was of that future.

"What do you want from me?" Blaine asked eventually, one hand on Kurt's jaw the other on his thigh. "What am I to you?"

"You're..." Kurt began but the words stilled in his throat. "Blaine..."

All the options open to him suddenly closed. _You're everything, you're my heart, you're my future. You're my husband and I want you to stay that way._ Kurt knew the man sat in front of him, he'd seen him before. This was the man who'd given that speech at his parents' anniversary party. This was a man who needed someone, even if it was for a moment, to validate who he was in the eyes of his family. This was someone who needed an escape, somewhere he could run away from his family.

Kurt knew from what little Blaine had said about his life in LA that the only thing he loved was his job. His roommate was the kind of person he got on with because they shared a house. The girlfriend (and by extension her roommate) were just people he knew. He rarely saw his colleagues outside of work except during work dos, and any man he'd had a relationship with had come about because he'd been set up by the aforementioned roommate and colleagues.

This was a man who wanted an out. And was that all Kurt was to him? New York – another city to get lost in. A husband – someone to come home to and be with to stave off the loneliness.

Was this another Adam? Another man who was just "killing time"?

In the end the response was taken from his mouth. While he debated Blaine's motives Kurt had fallen silent. Taking this as his answer Blaine had nodded slightly, pushing back off the bed.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, turning for the door.

"Where are you going?" Kurt asked.

"Bed. It's late and we've got a long drive ahead of us tomorrow."

"You're not...?" Kurt half asked. _Staying?_

"I don't think that's a good idea," Blaine replied, his voice low and toneless. "If we leave early enough we can be in New York by tomorrow night. Then all we need to do is sort out the divorce."

Kurt's mouth went dry at the mention of the word. "Right."

"Then you and I can just go our separate ways. Go back to our lives."

"Blaine..."

"It's fine," he said, turning around to face Kurt. "I don't think I can be who you want. And I'm not sure I can be who you need. So it's for the best really."

Kurt found himself nodding in agreement. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not," Blaine said. "This week? It's been... Thank you. For everything."

Then he was gone and Kurt sat on his bed for what felt like a very long time until he curled up on the covers and fell asleep, too hurt to even cry. The two mugs of barely touched hot chocolate cooled on the nightstand without further disturbance.


	3. Chapter 3

The first clue that something was wrong was when Kurt got up after ten. Burt couldn't remember the last time his son had slept in so late but he just put it down to exhaustion. The second clue was watching the two of them pack up the car. Ever since they'd arrived at the garage Burt had noticed how they were with each other. They could say otherwise but he knew, deep down, that there was something between the two of them. Only now they seemed to be doing everything they could to avoid even making eye contact with each other, let alone have any interactions.

"I forgot my jacket," Kurt said crisply and without waiting for a reply he headed back into the house to get it. Burt looked from Blaine to the retreating figure of Kurt and he shot a quick nod to Carole before going after his son.

"You OK, sweetheart?" Carole asked as she stepped from the doorway.

"Fine," Blaine said but his shaking voice betrayed him. "He doesn't want me," he whispered. "We talked last night and... I'm not what he wants."

"Bullshit," Carole said, shocking even herself with her response. "We all saw the way he looked at you."

"Yeah, well last night I outright asked him and he couldn't tell me. He didn't say anything. I kissed him and I asked him what we were and he said _nothing_ , Carole. Not a word. I'm just a mistake to him and the sooner we get this divorce sorted the sooner I can get back to LA."

"But that's not what you want?"

"It doesn't matter what I want. Not now."

"Oh sweetheart..."

"Seeing as we're never going to see each other again, I wanted to say thank you," Blaine continued. "You and Burt? Being here and a part of this family? I can't tell you what it means and I won't ever forget it."

"Don't write him off just yet," Carole said, pulling Blaine into a hug. "Kurt's stubborn but sometimes he's also still the scared kid he was in High School. Give him time, give him another chance?"

"I don't know if I can," Blaine muttered into his shoulder.

 

*

 

"I don't know if I can take that chance," Kurt told his father. "I'm not going to end up with another Adam. Blaine and I don't want the same things out of life and I've just got out of that relationship."

"How do you know you don't want the same things?" Burt asked in confusion.

"We talked, last night, about what we want. He made it very clear that I'm not what he's looking for."

"What? He's not looking for someone who loves him?"

Kurt stilled in surprise. "Dad..."

"I see how you look at him. And I also see how he looks at you. Blaine cares about you a hell of a lot, maybe even loves you."

"We've known each other for a few days..."

"Long enough then," Burt dismissed. "Look, kid. I'm not about to start telling you how to live your life. That didn't work ten years ago when you were under my roof so it's sure as hell not going to work now. But I am gonna tell you this. You gotta give him a chance. Love's not easy, it stumbles over too many hurdles as it is. Don't go putting ones there that don't need to be."

"I... I think I want to stay married to him. I want to be with him and have a family with him," Kurt said quietly as if he was just realising it himself. "I want everything and he wants someone to fix him. He wants someone to take care of him and make everything better and that's not me."

"Why can't it be?" Burt asked. "Carole and I were pretty broken when we met so we fixed each other."

"Because he also wants a divorce. How do I fix that?"

Burt sighed and pulled his son into a tight hug, holding him the same way he did when Kurt was eight, twelve, sixteen, eighteen. "You're always going to be my kid and I am always going to want what's best for you," Burt said.

"I know, Dad."

"So don't write him off just yet. You have a long day ahead of you. Maybe two? I mean, ten hours is a long time to be on the road. You stop if you need to. There's nothing wrong in taking a little longer to get somewhere if it means you end up where you're meant to be."

Knowing exactly what his dad meant Kurt held on a little tighter and put the unease in his stomach down to the fact that he and Blaine were going to be cooped up in his car for the rest of the day.

 

*

 

It wasn't because of that.

Blaine was driving so when they switched Kurt would be the one to bring them into New York. Sitting in the passenger seat Kurt tried to get some rest but his body refused to cooperate. He closed his eyes, wound the window down a little for some fresh air, and sipped at his bottle of water. Yet still the feeling that he was wrong somewhere gnawed at him.

The wave of nausea was quick and he sat upright, clamping his hand to his mouth. When he opened his eyes to look at Blaine he was trying to work out how the hell he was going to get them off the Interstate so he could be sick but then he saw they weren't actually on it.

With ease Blaine pulled them off the road and Kurt flung open the passenger door, getting a short distance from the car before emptying his stomach contents.

"You looked like you were gonna be sick for the last half hour," Blaine said. "Figured we'd need to make a quick stop so I left the Interstate."

Kurt nodded his thanks, unable to do anything else. When he'd finished retching he looked up to see Blaine had brought the wet wipes and his bottle of water from the car.

"There's a town a few miles up. We can stay there tonight."

"No, it's fine..." Kurt managed to say before the next wave of nausea hit.

"It's not," Blaine said. "We ate pretty much the same thing so I'm guessing this is a bug. And given how quickly it came on I'm thinking a 24 hour one." When Kurt looked up at him in confusion he shrugged. "I teach in what some call a Petri dish for all bugs and viruses. You know how many 24 hour sickness bugs I see a month? You need rest, fluids, and easy access to a bathroom. You'll be right as rain by tomorrow. But that's tomorrow."

"One day?" Kurt asked as he sipped at the water, rinsing out his mouth.

"One day," Blaine repeated. "You OK to get back in the car? I'll go slow so you can jump out if you need to?"

"Just... give me a minute," Kurt said, inching back towards the car but then lowering himself to the ground. "Just to be sure."

"It's your car," Blaine said before walking around to the driver's side.

Kurt sat with his head in his hand, trying to focus on settling his stomach. The last thing he wanted was to extend his time with Blaine but it was looking like he'd have no option but to. He could deal with this. It was one day. One more day of a clawing pain that had nothing to do with the wave of nausea that washed through him as he retched once more.

His body convulsed as his stomach emptied and a tiny part of Kurt's brain wanted to be back home where his dad and Carole could look after him. The feel of a warm hand on his back, rubbing gently and firmly as if to say _I'm here, I'm not going anywhere_. The water bottle hovering just within reach to wash out his mouth and wet wipes if needed. The bag sat out in case he needed a change of clothes.

And Blaine, by his side.

"In sickness and in health," he said with a small smile.

 

*

 

Eventually they made it into town after Kurt's body had seemingly emptied itself of all the fluids in it. Blaine pulled up to the first decent looking motel they came across and parked by the reception.

"Wait here," he said.

"I need to get out," Kurt muttered in reply, fumbling with his belt. Once he'd got it undone Blaine had opened the passenger door and steadied him as he swung his legs around.

"Just... stay here, OK?"

"Sitting is good. I'll stay sitting."

"Sitting is very good," Blaine laughed softly. "Be right back."

He pushed open the door and walked up to the counter. "Hi," he greeted the man behind the desk. "We need a room."

"We don't do twin beds," the man replied, looking over Blaine's shoulder to Kurt.

"That's fine," Blaine replied.

"I got two adjoining rooms..."

"Just the one will be fine."

"Look kiddo..."

"No, you look," Blaine said, dropping his voice low. "My _husband_ is sick and so we're not going to make it back to New York today. So we need a room. And if that's a problem then I can call the police and ask them what their opinion is on upholding the Marriage Equality act is. You know, when it was _finally_ legal for us to marry in every State, where our union is recognised and therefore afforded the same rights and recognition as hetro marriages? You know what my favourite bit is? The part where it actually made it _illegal_ for businesses to refuse service to people based on their sexuality, excepting of course specific situations, but seeing as we're not exactly in the Bible Belt and I don't see any religious certificates around, I'll be taking that room."

The man glared at Blaine and slid a key and the guest book across to him. "There's a hundred dollar cleaning charge if he's sick."

"Thank you," Blaine said, filling out the book and taking his wallet from his pocket. "Where's the local pharmacy?" When the man visibly recoiled Blaine tried not to smirk. "My husband needs rehydration salts and something to bring his temperature down."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Two blocks East."

"Thank you," Blaine said, his voice dripping with politeness as he stepped outside.

"Everything OK?" Kurt asked.

"Everything's fine," Blaine smiled reassuringly. "Come on. Let's get you into the room."

"I'm feeling better..." Kurt said, sliding out of the car and almost immediately collapsing in Blaine's arms. "OK, so maybe bed would be a good idea."

"Bed would be a very good idea," Kurt muttered, letting Blaine wrap an arm around his waist.

 

*

 

Kurt hated being sick. He hated not being able to do anything but more than that he hated how dependent he'd become on Blaine. He was curled up on the bathroom floor and while his body seemed intent on making him suffer Blaine never once left his side. His bottle was filled with rehydration salts and every so often Blaine soaked a cloth in cold water and pressed it to his forehead.

"Why are you doing this?" Kurt muttered as Blaine sat down behind him on the floor. He allowed himself to be pulled back against Blaine's body and sighed at how good it felt to be cared for.

"Sickness and in health, remember?"

"Actually no," Kurt managed to quip. "Don't think you do either."

"Because... because it's the right thing to do."

"That's it?" Kurt asked, his whole body feeling heavy.

"No," Blaine said quietly. "But that's not important right now."

"So tired..."

"OK, c'mon you." Blaine managed to manoeuvre them so they were standing and he all but carried Kurt to bed. Once he was settled on the side nearest the bathroom he started to go and clear up when Kurt's hand grabbed his.

"Stay," Kurt muttered. "Please?"

"OK. Give me a minute."

Blaine moved the bin closer to the bed and refilled the bottle for the nightstand. Once the lights were turned off he slipped under the covers, wrapping an arm loosely around Kurt's waist.

Kurt only got up once during the night, thankfully not to be sick, and as he slipped out of the bathroom he looked at the man dozing in the bed. It would be so easy to believe that Blaine wanted to be here with him, that he'd not imagined the gentle kisses in his hair as he'd been held. But Blaine was just the kind of person who'd do the right thing and Kurt had been in not fit state to continue travelling.

So even though it hurt he decided to take what he could get and he climbed back into bed, letting Blaine pull him back against his body, and drifted into a heavy sleep.

 

*

 

Blaine slept lightly, waking when Kurt did and extracted himself from his grasp. He listened but couldn't hear any sounds that would suggest that Kurt had been sick. When the toilet flushed he relaxed a little; clearly Kurt's body was getting back to normal.

He felt the bed shift as Kurt climbed back in next to him, curling back against his chest and so Blaine held on a little tighter.

In the moments between awake and sleep Blaine unlocked the memory, as clear as anything he'd ever experienced.

 

*

 

_They'd found some diner cafe and ordered burgers and coffee, slipping into opposite sides of a booth._

_"So where were we?" Kurt asked._

_"Discussing our lives and taking far too many shots for our sob stories."_

_"Right. So. Better things."_

_"Like what?"_

_"Dunno. You choose."_

_"Love."_

_Kurt shot Blaine a look. "Happy topic, Blaine."_

_"Look, just 'cause you got your heart broken doesn't mean you can shut yourself away. You need to look to the future. Get out there and find someone you actually can spend the rest of your life with."_

_"You make it sound so easy."_

_"Why can't it be?"_

_"Says the only other gay in Ohio," Kurt laughed._

_"Not quite, but I know what you mean. So tell me, Kurt Hummel, what do you look for in a man?"_

_"Someone who wants what I want," Kurt said quickly. "Someone who... I'm not easy you know. I shut people out if I'm scared of getting hurt. Towards the end with Adam we just... drifted apart. I stopped letting him in, kept things from him. Not the big stuff but little things. I need someone who won't let me do that. Someone who makes me take him in. Who won't let me push him away when I need him the most."_

_"And when is that likely to be?"_

_"When I'm sick is a pretty good example," Kurt laughed. "I make the **worst** patient ever. Even my dad gave up when I was a kid because I would barricade my door. I hate people seeing me when I'm not at my best."_

_"Noted," Blaine said. "For the record? I'm an excellent nurse."_

_"Do you have the candy cane uniform?"_

_"You wish," Blaine smirked. "But I'd not let you push me away."_

_"You're something else, Blaine Anderson, you know that?" Kurt said, absent-mindedly stirring his coffee. "There is something about you I can't..."_

_"What?"_

_"Nothing," Kurt said as their meals arrived._

_Blaine watched him cut up his burger into manageable pieces and smiled to himself. There was something about Kurt Hummel that he couldn't work out either. Something that was settling in his chest and was refusing to go away._

 

*

 

In a motel room, a stone's throw into Pennsylvania, Blaine slipped into sleep, his final conscious thought of the night _So was that why I married him?_

 

*

 

Kurt fought to stay asleep a little bit longer, his fractured night of sleep hadn't left him feeling as relaxed and refreshed as he'd have liked. Once it became clear that his body wasn't going to cooperate he took the time to take stock of his body and how he was feeling. The churning in his stomach had gone and he actually felt mostly human for a change. He felt warm too, the cold shivers had passed and he felt pretty good if he was honest.

Whole. Content. Safe.

As his brain woke up a little more he realised that a good part of that feeling could be attributed to the arm gently flung over his waist. He wasn't held in tight, unable to move. There had been nights with Adam when Kurt had actually had to wrestle his way out of his boyfriend's grasp. But this was different. Blaine's hold on him was lighter and Kurt could easily break free if he wanted.

But, finding that he didn't, he remained settled in the bed until Blaine stirred.

 

*

 

"Thank you," Kurt said as the Blaine packed up the last of their things. "For last night."

"It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't."

"What was I meant to do, Kurt? You were sick."

"You didn't need to... do what you did," he said. "I don't want you getting sick too. Wouldn't wish that bug on anyone."

"You're forgetting who you're talking to," he smiled. "When you've been teaching as long as I have your immune system gets pretty robust."

"Thank you."

"You said that already."

"Guess I really mean it."

"You're welcome," Blaine smiled. "You sure you're OK to travel?"

"If you're OK to drive, yeah. Am starting to crave my bed."

"I know what you mean," Blaine said before he could think too much about it. "There's something about home..."

"You must be missing LA," Kurt said even though he knew the answer.

Blaine's response was a small shrug and he zipped up the last bag. "Summer vacation isn't just for the kids y'know. We kinda love them too."

"Never thought about that," Kurt mused. "What do teachers do during the summer?"

"Well me? I like to travel. Go somewhere new."

"Hence Las Vegas?"

"Kinda," Blaine smiled. "My roommate and I were supposed to go, bit of a boys' trip. He'd just broken up with his girlfriend and so it was a way of getting away from that."

"What happened?"

"They got back together," Blaine grimaced. "So I needed to get away."

"Reason one why I love living by myself," Kurt laughed.

"I could, but I find I do better with company."

Kurt stilled for a moment, once again wondering if Blaine needed to be rescued. Did he want someone to be there? Someone to come home to?

"Not that there's much in LA," Blaine was saying, snapping Kurt from his concerns. "Sometimes I wonder if I'd be missed if I wasn't there, y'know?"

"I'd miss you," Kurt said before he could stop himself.

"What?" Blaine asked, looking up.

For a moment Kurt's heart almost stopped but Blaine's expression made it clear that he'd simply not heard what he'd said. "I'm sure you would," he said a little louder.

"We'd all like to think so, wouldn't we?"

"We should get going."

"Right. Yeah. Can you take the bags down?"

"I think I'm recovered enough to manage that," Kurt smiled.

 

*

 

As the greenery that surrounded the Interstate began to be replaced with more signs of civilisation the mood in the car changed. It had been quiet at first but they'd soon settled into the familiar banter and laughs and songs and random questions that had been staples of the last week. But as soon as the first sights of New York started to surround them they both seemed to realise that this was it. This was the end.

And not just of the journey.

"We should find somewhere to switch," Blaine said.

"Depends how good you are at following directions."

"Managed to get us this far."

"It's hardly been difficult."

"I'm not bad, so long as you don't spring any surprises on me," Blaine said.

"That's our exit!" Kurt almost yelled as Blaine sped past one. "You mean like that?" he asked a little calmer, settling back into the seat with a smug grin on his face.

"I will turn this car around," Blaine threatened and then wondered why he'd said that. Kurt evidently wondered too as he burst into laughter. "How about I drive to my friend's and you can go on from there?"

"Because this is my car."

"And I'm the one driving."

"I'll report you for kidnapping."

"Kidnapping my husband?" Blaine joked.

"You do realise that just because we're married doesn't mean you can't kidnap me? Am sure this is probably covered under spousal abuse."

"Really? That's the angle you're taking? And _how_ exactly have I abused you?"

"Next exit," Kurt said calmly as the first board for it appeared. "You get me drunk, force me to marry you..."

"No I didn't!" Blaine laughed as he changed lanes.

"You might have done."

"What? I rigged the cards did I?"

Kurt's retort stilled in his throat. "What?"

"Cards," Blaine said. "We..."

"We used cards," Kurt said. "In Vegas."

"Because it's all about chance," they both said as the memory slammed back into existence.

 

*

 

_"You're serious," Kurt laughed. "Cards?"_

_"Hey, when in Vegas! OK rules. We need rules. All good games have rules."_

_"What are we actually playing?" Kurt asked._

_"Where To Next."_

_"Catchy title."_

_"Work in progress."_

_"OK, so if we're trying to figure out where to go how about this? Black is left, red is right. Even numbers mean we go two blocks, odds we only go one. Picture cards mean we stop somewhere on that block."_

_"Pacing to be determined by the last number card we turned over," Blaine added._

_"Right. And if we end up outside somewhere then black means we go in, red means we move on."_

_"Exceptions?"_

_"Pfft," Kurt mocked. "Exceptions are for people who need a get out clause."_

_"Why do I get the feeling you're not someone who offers get out clauses freely?"_

_"Because I'm not," Kurt said, shuffling the deck. "Not unless I **really** like the person."_

_"What? You don't like me?"_

_"I'm just getting to know you, Mr Anderson. And **now** I have 'The Matrix' playing in my head."_

_"So which pill are you offering me tonight, Mr Hummel?"_

_"What?"_

_"The red pill or the blue pill?"_

_"Well, if you want to go back to your ordinary life where you're bored and lonely then there's the exit." Kurt gestured to the appropriately blue lit door just behind Blaine. "Or, you can remember that the whole point of your Las Vegas trip was an escape. And not just for your roommate._

_"Or," Kurt teased, holding up the desk so the back was visible, "you can take the appropriately coloured red pill and we can see what Vegas has to offer."_

_"You realise how dangerous this could get. I mean, what happens if we end up at a strip joint?"_

_Kurt laughed. "Then we can eye up the bartender or the bouncers and we can give the girls make up tips." Off Blaine's look he laughed. "OK, I can give them make up tips. You can give them fashion advice. In the 'what not to wear' variety."_

_"And what is wrong with what I'm wearing?" Blaine scoffed._

_"Oh these cards better take us to some shops because I have so much to teach you!"_

_"This is my best suit."_

_"Come on shopping trip," Kurt called as he shuffled the deck. "Want to?" he offered. After Blaine simply cut the cards he held them out. "Red pill it is," Kurt smiled and turned over the first card._

 

*

 

"We went all over town," Blaine said, "you and those stupid cards."

"Stupid?" Kurt laughed. "Next right. Worth it to see the look of panic on your face when we _did_ end up outside a strip joint."

"I have never been so glad to see a red card."

"Me either," Kurt confessed. "Through the next two sets of lights then left at the third."

"And then we go right past the one place that _did_ cater to our... tastes," Blaine said.

"Hey, the cards spoke."

"And you were of course above rigging them."

"I'm an honourable man."

"Says the person who lured me to a wedding chapel," Blaine teased. "I'm beginning to think that you _did_ rig the deck."

"So what? We ended up outside a wedding chapel?"

"Yeah... I think...? I mean it makes sense, right?"

"I guess."

"Think we'll ever remember everything from that night?"

"I have no idea," Kurt sighed, staring out of the window at the now familiar sights. "Maybe?"

"If only to settle the argument of who was responsible for... this."

"Does it matter?" Kurt's voice was quiet and it managed to cut right through Blaine. "I mean... we're going to..."

"Guess not," Blaine said.

"Right at the next block then find somewhere to park."

The final part of the journey was done in a heavy silence and Blaine pulled into a residents' parking bay with ease.

"So..." Blaine said after the engine had been killed and their belts unbuckled.

"Want to come up?" Kurt said quickly.

"OK," Blaine said just as quickly.

 

*

 

The apartment was, like most in New York, a floor of an older building converted. Every inch of it _screamed_ Kurt though. As soon as he opened the door and kicked the mail out of the way, Blaine was soaking up every last detail.

The walls were off white, a series of photo frames lined the hallway. Blaine recognised the New Directions, the family shots, one from Burt and Carole's wedding. Then there were graduation photos, ones that meant something to Kurt (the one of him on stage was obvious). His heels clicked on the hardwood floors that extended out into the living space which damn near took Blaine's breath away.

Kurt had managed to work with the classic structure to create something that married old and new.

"Clearly you do design in your spare time," he breathed when he saw Kurt had noticed him staring. "This place is... amazing."

"I had a very clear idea of what I wanted in an apartment. Looked at close to fifty before I found this one. Had to starve and sell some bits and pieces on eBay to get the deposit but once that was done... Birthdays, Christmas, everything was money towards another bit of furniture. You're looking at eighteen months of hard work."

"It's perfect," Blaine said, taking a moment to admire the painting which formed a centrepiece in the room.

Kurt wanted so badly to laugh at Blaine's attitude towards the apartment; like a kid in a toy store. And he also wanted to tell Blaine that it wasn't perfect. That he'd invested eighteen months into making this a home and now he had no one to share it with.

"I have a fantastic landlady," Kurt said, pulling a notepad from a door. "I've pretty much doubled the rental value of this place so she's said that when I give notice on this place I get my last month free and double my deposit back. Plus I get first refusal when she's renovating any of her other properties."

"My husband, man of many talents," Blaine whispered.

"Blaine?" Kurt said, getting his attention. "I think we've reached the point where we swap details."

"You make it sound like we had a car accident."

"You got a lawyer?"

"I only know the one," Blaine said. "From... well... a car accident." He gave a small laugh as he wrote down the address on the pad. "For the record the other guy hit me."

"These guys are mine," Kurt said, digging out a business card. "It's kinda expected in my business," he explained

"What?"

"You'd be surprised how many new designers will threaten to sue you because you write an article saying that they're already last season."

"So is that it then?" Blaine asked, slipping the card into his pocket.

"...I guess."

"Feels weird."

"What does?"

"This. Just... swapping details and then I leave and that's it."

"What? You want to swap cell numbers? Email? Put the other on a Christmas card list?"

"I just feel like there should be... more, y'know?" Blaine said. "This has been an insane week and pretty intense and I feel that a handshake and a 'have a nice life' parting doesn't quite do it justice."

"So what do you suggest?" Kurt asked.

"You're clearly the ideas man," Blaine said, holding his arms out and gesturing to the apartment. "How do you end a week long marriage?"

Kurt took a deep breath before he walked around to where Blaine was standing. Before he could talk himself out of it he took Blaine's face in his hands and brought their mouths together.

"Question nineteen..." Kurt said quietly.

"Yes. OK. Please."

"How do you know what I was going to ask?" Kurt laughed.

"Just do," Blaine said, capturing Kurt's mouth in another kiss. "I know you." He pulled Kurt in close, fitting their bodies together as a hand pushed up into Kurt's hair. "God, Kurt..."

"This..." Kurt breathed as he felt Blaine's body, warm and willing against him, "...is not..."

"No," Blaine said, pulling back a little and taking Kurt's face in his hands. "This is so right. We have been fighting this all week..."

"For a good reason," Kurt said, putting his hands over Blaine's and resting their foreheads together. "Just because I... we want this doesn't mean it's the right thing to do."

"So what do you suggest?"

"Well... We got in this by chance..."

Blaine gave a small laugh and stole another kiss. "Toss a coin?"

"Why not? End as we started?"

"Heads I top, tails you do?" Blaine grinned.

"Heads you leave," Kurt said, pulling a quarter from his pocket, "tails we do this."

"That's not fair," Blaine said, pulling Kurt back in for another kiss.

For a moment it seemed like Blaine was going to win Kurt round. He moulded into the kiss, letting Blaine walk them back against the counter. Their bodies slotted together, Blaine pushing one leg between Kurt's to rub up against him.

"Are you going to toss or am I?" Kurt said.

"Well," Blaine smirked, running a hand down Kurt's side and across his hip. Before Blaine could reach his crotch (and destroy any self control Kurt had left) he'd gripped his wrist and pulled it away.

"Be like that," Kurt smiled, leaning in for a chaste kiss.

With a flick of his free wrist the coin was sent spinning into the air and Blaine caught it deftly, slapping it down onto the counter.

Blaine didn't move, fixing his eyes on Kurt's. For a moment they just stayed there, barely breathing, their bodies close. "Question nineteen," Blaine said quietly. "Do we honestly need to look?"

Kurt's response was to kiss Blaine like his life depended on it.

 

*

 

_"...and five paces puts us..."_

_Blaine stopped as he noticed the building to his left. Kurt also stopped as he noticed the building to his left._

_"Draw again," Blaine said._

_"The cards have spoken."_

_"I preferred the strip club. Let's go back there."_

_"Blaine," Kurt laughed._

_"You are not serious?"_

_"Draw the card," he said._

_"We're standing outside a **wedding chapel** , Kurt. This is a bit beyond half naked girls. Even for us."_

_"I love how your mind goes straight to the point where we go in and get married," Kurt said, sliding the top card from the deck. "Maybe there's a couple in there waiting for some witnesses. We could making some happy couple's day. Night. Whatever."_

_"Happy whatever?"_

_"Shut up," Kurt said, turning the card over. "And we're going in!"_

_"Kurt, no," Blaine said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. "This is not fun anymore. You can walk away from the tables at any time, we should walk away now."_

_"You're really freaked out by this, aren't you?" Kurt asked as he followed Blaine to a nearby bench."_

_"Not in that way, no," he said. "Not by the whole marriage thing."_

_"You want to get married?" Kurt asked. "In general?"_

_"Never thought about it."_

_"Did you honestly think I was suggesting we get married?"_

_"...No."_

_"Blaine."_

_"OK, maybe for a second. Like a passing thought second."_

_"And you freaked out about that? Good to know," Kurt laughed softly. Then he saw Blaine's face change. "What?"_

_"I want to ask you something first."_

_"Go on."_

_"Did the idea cross your mind?"_

_"...No."_

_"Kurt."_

_"For a second. Passing thought second."_

_"Two things to do in Vegas, right?" Blaine sighed, sitting on the bench so he was facing outwards._

_"I think that's something a bit too big to put on a deck of cards," Kurt said. "People tend to talk about getting married."_

_"I didn't freak out because I thought you wanted to get married," Blaine said. "I freaked out because... because I don't think I'm totally against the idea."_

_"Oh," Kurt said eventually, turning so he was sat facing out, same as Blaine._

_"And the majority of my brain knows it's probably the most insane idea we've had all night. I do know that. Half a dozen shots and a couple of beers? I'm not that drunk."_

_"Me either."_

_"I'm freaked you out though, haven't I? The weirdo who actually slightly liked the idea of marrying you."_

_"Slightly?"_

_"Can I try and save a bit of my dignity?"_

_"Not if... Not if I'm... I mean... I didn't... Me too," Kurt eventually settled on. "I slightly liked the idea too."_

_"Right."_

_"So we're both weird."_

_"Seems that way."_

_"This is insane."_

_"Totally."_

_"I met you tonight. This is not what I do. I am not that impulsive. Ask my dad. I had a whole plan with Adam. There was no jumping in."_

_"And look where that got you," Blaine pointed out._

_"Fair point."_

_"And you just got in your car and drove for days to get away. You ended up here. Now."_

_"With you."_

_"With me."_

_"And there is something about you, Blaine Anderson."_

_"There's something about you too, Kurt Hummel."_

_The pair of them turned their heads to look at the other, trying to find an answer to an unasked question._

_"We live on different sides of the country," Blaine said._

_"People move," Kurt pointed out. "We've known each other for..." He checked his watch. "It's five to eight. That's what? Almost nine hours now?"_

_"They say you can fall in love at first sight."_

_"Did you?"_

_"Did you?" Blaine retorted._

_"I asked first."_

_"I'm not sure I believe in love at first sight. Attraction? A connection? Yeah. Maybe."_

_"Are you attracted to me?"_

_"I want your answer first."_

_"I like the idea of love at first sight," Kurt said, "but I've never experienced it. Dad says he loved Mom first time he saw her, and he knew Carole was special when I introduced them..."_

_"You're special," Blaine said, moving his hand so he was holding the deck of cards along with Kurt._

_"So are you."_

_"I've never... The way I feel about you... I just **know** that you and I..."_

_"I know," Kurt said across him. "So..."_

_"So..."_

_They sat there in silence for a moment before their fingers moved together, sliding the top card from the deck. They knew the rules and even though the question hadn't been asked the answer was in their hands._

_Red meant no._

_Black meant yes._

_As their eyes locked their mouths crept up in a smile, the same feeling crept up in both of their chests, a mixture of hope and want and desire._

_They both moved to turn over the card but then laughter bubbled up inside them. Kurt held himself up by placing his hands on Blaine's chest and then for a moment the world disappeared._

_The kiss, their first, was tentative at first but then there was a second and a third and each was more than the last._

_"I can teach anywhere," Blaine said when they parted._

_"You'd move to New York?"_

_"To be kissed like that? I'd move anywhere you were!"_

_"You realise that not all kisses are like first ones, right?"_

_"Somehow I don't think I could ever get tired of kissing you."_

_"This is insane," Kurt whispered, his gaze dropping to the cards. "Are we really going to let a card determine whether or not we get married?"_

_"I'm not the most religious of people," Blaine confessed, "but I do believe in Fate. You and I? We were supposed to meet today."_

_"So we leave it to Fate to determine the biggest decision of our lives?"_

_"Oh no," Blaine said. "We'll actually talk about having kids."_

_"I want one of each. The girl first."_

_"So long as they don't have 'common' names. I don't want them being one of five Megans or Peters."_

_"And they get to be whoever they are."_

_"I think you and I are the last two people who would try and make someone be something they're not."_

_"I sleep on the right side of the bed," Kurt said._

_"I prefer the left anyway. And I sleep on my right side."_

_"I love being spooned."_

_"My iPod is full of Katy Perry songs."_

_Kurt sighed. "Well. No one's perfect."_

_They looked down at the top card and placed both of their hands on it. This was it, this was the moment when..._

 

*

 

Blaine had, in all honesty, been thinking about this since Vegas. Because they'd very clearly had sex the marriage had been consummated and an annulment was therefore out of the question. (He'd heard rumours of hotel cleaning staff testifying that they found proof of sex in a room when it came to marriage annulments and so it wasn't a lie they wanted to try.) But what annoyed him more than anything else was the fact that he couldn't remember it.

So he'd been left with his dreams and his fantasies and he honestly couldn't understand how he'd managed to be around Kurt all week without jumping him in an effort to jump start some memories.

(Kurt, incidentally, had been thinking and feeling the same thing. Not that Blaine knew that.)

But there had been no flash, no outpouring of memories beyond what had happened outside the wedding chapel. So Blaine had allowed himself to get lost in what they were doing and how _fucking attentive_ Kurt was in bed.

And out of it.

Kisses which built passion, hands which roamed carefully and gently over skin but hurriedly pushed clothes out of the way. Gentle kisses and not-so gentle bites on newly uncovered skin.

Blaine remembered something Kurt had told him that Vegas morning when they'd just woken up.

_"Um... yeah, not sure how... Sorry. I'm usually pretty good with prep."_

He wasn't kidding. Blaine almost came (twice) from that alone and he didn't care that he ended up begging. Because as soon as Kurt was in him Blaine knew, without a shadow of doubt, that it didn't matter. They may have lived the Vegas cliché, they may have only known each other a week, but Blaine was one hundred percent, completely and utterly irrevocably in love with Kurt.

 

*

 

Kurt was clearly a post-orgasm snoozer and cuddler, something Blaine was more than happy to go along with. Kurt shifted so Blaine could wrap around him, their hands loosely clasped over his stomach.

"Kurt," Blaine said softly, nuzzling at the nape of his neck. "Kurt, you awake?"

"No," came the quiet but coherent reply.

"That was... You're..."

Kurt laughed softly. "You too."

"And we'll only get better."

"True," Kurt murmured.

"If you wanted to." Blaine breathed in deeply before pushing on. "Kurt... how do you feel..."

"Happy..."

"No. About me? Because I... this week..."

"It's been intense," Kurt said, his voice dropping as he settled into sleep. "Best mistake I ever made."

"Mistake?" Blaine asked.

"Mmm," Kurt hummed. "Blaine, we got drunk and we got married. Hardly a reasoned decision."

"So you and me...?" Blaine asked, his heart threatening to still in his chest. "What you've been to me this week..."

"Glad to help." Kurt's voice was almost incoherent and within seconds he was asleep.

Blaine waited a moment until he was sure Kurt wasn't going to be disturbed before he slipped out of bed and quickly dressed. When he ventured back into the living area to reclaim the items of clothes shed there his gaze fell on the quarter, still sat on the counter.

Heads.

Figured.

He moved the coin onto a piece of paper and left a quick note, grabbing his bag and quietly closing the door behind him as he left.

_Kurt,_  
Guess Fate has spoken, huh?  
Thank you.  
B xx 

Kurt found the note and the coin when he woke just over an hour later. The bed was cold on Blaine's side ( _No, the other side_ , he told himself. _Not Blaine's side. It had never been Blaine's side._ ) and even though he knew this was coming it still hurt.

Because Blaine didn't love him. Blaine needed someone to save him, to be there for him. He'd fallen for another Adam and Kurt wondered if he was ever going to find the kind of love that he'd been told since High School that he deserved.

For a moment that afternoon he'd almost believed that he'd found it. The way Blaine had been, the way they'd been together. He wasn't a hopeless romantic by any stretch of the imagination but there had been a moment when he'd actually wondered if all the songs and poems and stories came from somewhere. If he'd not just imagined the connection he felt with Blaine.

But then he'd talked about what Kurt had done for him this week. About the support and encouragement. He'd lain there, almost holding his breath and hoping that Blaine would betray something about his feelings or his thoughts. But there had been nothing.

And now Blaine was gone. His favourite mistake, the best impulsive and stupid thing he'd ever done. Alone, again, Kurt wondered if letting Blaine go was the right thing to do or the worst mistake he'd ever made.

 

*

 

Blaine stared out of the window for pretty much the whole flight. Airline food wasn't the most appetising at the best of times and Blaine's appetite had taken a serious nose dive. He'd rearranged his ticket for the first flight possible and so had only spent one further night in New York after leaving Kurt's.

After leaving Kurt.

Blaine reasoned that the sooner he got back to his life the sooner he could get on with his life and forget about the week he'd spent with Kurt, of the hours he'd spent in Kurt's bed that afternoon. Forget about how close he'd felt to him, how intimate it had been despite the fact that he was trying to pretend that it was something else.

How it had made him wonder if Kurt wasn't feeling and thinking the same. But then he'd called them a mistake. This was all one big mistake and nothing was going to change that. But how could he not know? Did he not see it? Feel it?

As the plane came into land at LAX Blaine had convinced himself why Kurt had let him go; loving someone who didn't love you back the same, who didn't want what you wanted? It hurt more than anything else.

Kurt was his Adam so he'd done the right thing. Once the divorce was finalised then they would be free to find someone who would love them the way they deserved to be loved.

 

*

 

Two thousand, four hundred and forty five miles apart (as the crow flies) two men told themselves the same thing.

"I've only known him for a week. I can't be in love with him."

They were both wrong.

 

*

 

The manila envelope was buried in other correspondence and Kurt had no idea what it was until he'd opened it. The divorce papers seemed to weigh a ton in his hand and it was a good five minutes before he could flick through to where the tabs indicated the places for his signature.

Blaine's scrawl was already on his indicated lines, all that was needed was for Kurt to agree, return the papers to be filed and then they would both be free.

Kurt left the papers on his desk for the rest of the day, signing them only when he'd packed up. With a sigh he slipped them back into the envelope and sealed it, then he turned off his desk light and dropped the envelope in the outgoing mail bag on his way out.

"See you tomorrow, Kurt," Joanne called as he walked past the reception desk.

"Unless I get hit by a bus," he quipped.

"People get divorced all the time," Joanne said sympathetically.

"Does everyone know?"

"We care about you, Kurt, and we hate seeing you like this."

"It's what he wants."

"What about what you want?" she asked. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

"You make it sound so simple," he said, walking back over to her desk.

"You love him."

"He doesn't love me."

"Oh trust you to actually fall for your drunken Vegas pull," she laughed affectionately. "You realise that if I ever meet this Blaine guy I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions, right?"

"And that's why I love you," Kurt laughed, pushing up onto the desk a little so he could lean over and give her a kiss.

"Well, if you decide to switch teams..."

"First call," he promised.

"Have a good night," she called after him as he headed for the door, "and stay away from those buses. I like you in one piece!"

"Goodnight, Jo!"

"Blaine Anderson, you have no idea what you just let go," she muttered as she collected the outgoing post.

For one moment she considered throwing the papers away, preventing the divorce, but then the cute mailman turned up to collect it and she was pulled from her plan by another round of flirting. At least with this one there was the chance of a Friday night date.

 

*

 

Blaine looked up from his laptop to see his roommate stood in front of him, beers in one hand, takeout in the other.

"Intervention?" he asked.

"Intervention."

"I'm fine, Marco."

"Sure you are," he said, setting the cans down. "Moping for the last two months? Totally fine."

"OK, so maybe I _will_ be fine," Blaine said, digging the food from the bag.

"Am I finally going to find out what you've been up to?"

"I quit my job."

Marco choked on the mouthful of beer he'd just taken and stared at Blaine. "You what?"

"I quit. I'm also, uh, moving."

"When?"

"Next week."

"And you were going to leave me hanging?"

"Well no. Katie's moving in."

"My girlfriend?"

"Unless you know another one?"

"Let me get this straight, Prep Boy," Marco said. "You quit a job you're bloody awesome at, you're loving out and you've arranged for my girlfriend to move in... Tell me you have a flight to New York booked?"

"Monday morning," Blaine grinned as he opened the last of the containers.

"Oh halleluiah," Marco cheered, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "You and Kurt?"

"Dunno yet."

"Wait, what?"

"I'm giving myself two months. If I've not managed to convince him to... I don't know, take me back, give us a chance, talk to me, whatever. If it's not happened by Christmas then I'm going to Seattle."

"What's in Seattle?"

"A semester's work covering maternity leave. If I want it."

"You seem to have a plan there, Prep Boy."

"Are you _ever_ going to stop calling me that, Pizza Boy?" Blaine quipped. When Marco shook his head Blaine laughed. "I need to try. Maybe Kurt and I aren't meant..."

"Pfft," Marco dismissed. "You have been moping over him since you came back from New York and I know how much it hurt when he sent those papers. God knows why you signed them—"

"Because it's what he wanted."

"—but you did and you've regretted it ever since you shoved it into the mailbox. So ask me it's 'bout time you put it right. So go get your man and be happy, yeah?"

"That's kinda the plan."

"So there is a plan? Tell all to Uncle Marco so he can live vicariously through your adventures while he faces a future of settling down with his girlfriend, who he does love, but didn't really plan on shacking up with quite so soon."

"You love me for it."

"I'm sure I will in the long run. Right now convince me that it's better you go to New York in one piece."

 

*

 

 **New York  
** Week one, day one  
Even though he was desperate to get started Blaine had to ditch his bag at his friend's apartment. She had a spare room until Christmas and his self-imposed two month limit perfectly filled the gap until then.

Fate, for once Blaine felt, was on his side.

After leaving his bag and picking up the spare key he hailed a cab and gave the address he'd looked up and triple checked (thank god for Google Street View) as being Kurt's.

He pressed the intercom and was a little surprised that he was buzzed straight up without question. Still, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, he pulled open the outer door and took the stairs, two, three at a time until he was on the second floor and in front of Kurt's door.

He took a second to catch his breath before knocking on the door.

"You're a little early," the woman who answered it said without preamble or introductions, "but come on in anyway."

"Um... Sorry, I was looking for Kurt? Kurt Hummel? He lives here."

"Lived, sweetheart, past tense. Moved out, oh, over a week ago now."

Blaine leant against the doorframe as his knees almost gave out from under him.

"You OK? You need a glass of water?"

"Do you know where he is?" Blaine asked. "Did he leave a forwarding address or something?"

She laughed softly. "I can't exactly give that out. You a friend of his?"

"I... Not exactly. He and I... we were married."

The woman's eyes narrowed a little. "What?"

"Look, I know it'd be unprofessional for you to give me his forwarding address but I know you have one. He talked about you, about how you'd give him first refusal on renovating an apartment given the good job he did on this one? I'm not some random stranger I promise."

"OK, so you do know Kurt," she said carefully.

He grabbed a nearby pad and started writing. "This is my cell number. Can you just pass it on? Tell him Blaine really needs to talk to him. It's important."

"Blaine?" she asked as she took the piece of paper. "Blaine Anderson?"

"Yeah," he said. "Kurt mentioned me?"

"Yeah, he did."

"Can you just pass that on?"

The intercom buzzed and the landlady nodded in the direction of the door. "I've got people here to view the apartment."

"Right. Yeah. Please, just give him my number. I just want to talk to him."

"It's nothing... serious, right?" she asked. "I mean... does he need to...?"

"What?" Blaine stammered. "No, no I'm fine. We're fine. It's nothing like that."

"Well good. I seen too many friends lost that way."

"No. It's..."

"Look, kid," she said as the intercom buzzed again.

"Yeah, right, I'll go. But just give that to Kurt? Please? It's still important."

He almost tripped over his feet in excitement as he left, passing a young couple on the stairs. For the rest of the day he stared nervously at his phone, willing it to ring.

 

*

 

"So you're Blaine Anderson, huh?" the landlady muttered to herself as she watched him leave. "The guy who broke my boy's heart? You don't get a second round on that," she decided, scrunching up the paper and tossing it into the bin.

"Hi," she then greeted to the couple as they arrived at the door, "are you going to _adore_ this apartment! The previous tenant was one Kurt Hummel; you remember that name because he is the next big thing in design and when he hits the big time the rent on this place will triple for any new tenants."

 

*

 

 **Week one, day five**  
Eventually Blaine gave up staring at his phone and realised that Kurt probably wasn't going to call. Maybe it was just too weird to call and find out why your ex-husband was in New York. So Plan B was put into action.

Blaine spent a day in the library looking up all the fashion magazines that started up during Kurt's time at NYADA and soon after, getting together a shortlist of their names and offices. He didn't care if he had to camp on the door of each one, he would find the right one.

He'd exhausted all the obvious methods; Google resulted in a list of some of Kurt's articles but they were mainly published on blogs and offered contact details through them only. He either didn't have a Facebook profile or it was so locked down he couldn't even find it. As a reserve he did Google "Hummel & Hudson Tires and Lube" and found their number. He wasn't sure how they were going to like the idea of him calling. So last resort then.

First he had businesses to stalk.

 

*

 

 **Week two, day three**  
"Hi, I'm here to see Kurt Hummel?"

Blaine presented himself, as scripted, to the receptionist. This was usually the point where they told him that there was no Kurt Hummel working there and he would apologise and leave. Except today.

"Do you have an appointment?" the girl asked, eyeing him up and down.

"...Yes," Blaine said, his heart starting to beat wildly.

"When for?"

Blaine glanced at the clock. "Two fifteen," he said. "I'm a little late, I know, but it was the only time he could fit me in."

"What's the name?"

He considered lying but figured that probably wouldn't work out well in the long run. Plus he didn't want to run the risk of Kurt declaring he had no idea who he was. "Anderson, Blaine Anderson."

The girl froze and stared at him. "See, now I _know_ you're making all this up."

"What?"

"You don't have an appointment with Kurt," she smiled. "Because there is no way he'd want to see his ex husband."

Blaine's eyes widened. "You know about me?"

"The whole place does. I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

"No, please... Joanne," Blaine said, glancing the name plate on the desk. "I know this is probably way out of line but I just need to see him."

"You can't," she said.

"Just tell him I'm here. Please? If he wants me to go..."

"I know he does," she said, nodding over to the security guard in the corner. "Now, are you going or...?"

"Please..."

She fixed a stare on him and so Blaine turned and walked out of the building. So close...

 

*

 

 **Week two, day four**  
It was seven am and Blaine, holding a large coffee in his cold hands, was standing across the street from the building where he now knew Kurt worked. He'd spent the night doing his research, finding out every piece of information about _Closet_ that he could.

(This included the history of its name. It had, apparently, been the idea of one of their writers; KE Hummel. This made Blaine laugh for its implications and he loved Kurt and his sense of humour that little bit more.)

It was a fringe publication, covering the smaller shows and designers. It also had a "community" section which features schools or local groups. Even a knitting circle once. Part of its popularity came from the fact that it was accessible to everyone. It took the catwalk and runway fashions and it showed people how they could get it for themselves.

_Bringing the runway into your home._

People loved it because they could relate.

The morning commute had started and Blaine watched the people on the street, looking for that familiar face or hairstyle. By nine he decided that he'd come back in the evening – maybe Kurt was starting late.

 

*

 

Except he wasn't. Blaine waited until it was pitch black and all of the lights were off. No Kurt.

 

*

 

 **Week three, day five**  
Joanne had spotted him pretty early on and threatened to call the police. Blaine had pointed out there was nothing she could do as he was on a public street so she'd just rolled her eyes and left him to it. And maybe laughed a bit when the New York winter rolled in and brought with it the weather.

He couldn't keep this up. For one he needed to start earning some money.

 

*

 

 **Week six, day one**  
Blaine had been doing the odd day of substitute work just to keep some money rolling in. He loved it. Getting back in the classroom and working with the kids and for those few hours each day he got to take his mind off the fact that it had been a month and a half and Kurt hadn't got in touch once.

The mornings he could he was outside the office, looking for Kurt. As the days dragged on he started to get the feeling that he was being blocked at every turn. Joanne had refused to pass on any messages and any email address at _Closet_ he tried came back with the same response (if he got one at all). A clipped but firm no.

The message was clear; Blaine stood no chance and so he made a decision, two weeks early, and confirmed his flight to Seattle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Week eight, day four**  
It had been a long, long week but despite his exhaustion Blaine found he was going to miss this school, these kids. It had been a last minute week's cover for a Eighth Grade English class and he'd arrived on Monday to find that they were in the middle of a project.

"Mr James does a business school each year," they'd told him on Monday. "They put together a business proposal and market a product."

"Sounds good."

"Only this year it's gone a bit further," continued the explanation. "They all wanted to do the same thing so I'm afraid you're walking into... well... this."

The classroom door was pushed open and Blaine had been greeted with kids bickering over fabric and materials and a couple of old sewing machines.

"Welcome to the Eighth Grade catwalk."

Blaine was nothing if not someone who rose to a challenge and by the end of the day he'd organised the groups and distributed the materials. By the end of the second day each group was working hard on their presentation and by the end of the third designs were being run up on the machines.

On the fourth day the Principal, impressed with how Blaine had gotten involved in school life, came to him with a piece of information and a question.

"I have a journalist friend who owes me a favour," she said, "so she's coming tomorrow to do a piece on the kids. She'll be here for the fashion show tomorrow afternoon."

"That's fine," Blaine said, picking up the last of the scraps not tidied away.

"Fancy staying full time?"

"What?"

"You know Miss Smith?"

"Seventh Grade?"

"Yeah. Her mom took ill last week and she now needs some serious care, so she's having to leave. You'd not only be doing me a massive favour by coming back full time after Christmas, I suspect the kids would love it too."

"I'm flying to Seattle tomorrow night," Blaine said.

"What's in Seattle?"

"It's what's in New York," Blaine sighed. "But thank you for the offer. I appreciate it, I really do."

"Shame. I have no idea where I'm going to find someone as good as you! Do me a favour and think about it? Whatever's in Seattle, it's not set in stone is it?"

"A semester maternity cover."

"And I'm offering you job security," the Principal laughed. "Think about it, yeah? And remember to charm my friend tomorrow."

"When you say charm...?"

"Oh just make her think it's a possibility," she laughed, "and she'll be happy enough. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Unless I get hit by a bus," Blaine quipped.

"Well make sure you stay away from them because I kinda like you in one piece. Goodnight, Blaine."

"Night."

 

*

 

 **Week one, day one**  
"You're insane, you know that?"

"I love you too, Mercedes," Kurt laughed as he leaned across to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for the ride."

"I'd wish you luck but..."

"But you think I'm insane."

"You knew him for a week, Kurt. And you got a _divorce_."

"And it was a mistake. I love him and I need to at least try."

"Then go try. And say hi to Los Angeles for me?"

"Oh shush," he mocked.

 

*

 

 

 **Week eight, day five**  
Before leaving for work Blaine packed his bags and headed off for school. He arrived early to set out the classroom, grateful that this close to Christmas many of his temporary colleagues were willing to allow some of their students out to take part.

Once the space had been turned into a makeshift auditorium he retired to the staff room to make himself a coffee, only to find the Principal lurking.

"Thought about my offer?" she asked.

"If things were different then I would love to stay, I really would have."

"Can you not? I don't know what is driving you away..."

"It's... complicated."

"The best stories usually are," she smiled warmly.

"I came here for someone. Only they don't want me so..."

"So you're running away?"

"I prefer to see it as a... strategic retreat," Blaine laughed.

"I never had you down as a quitter. Just so you know I intend to make it my mission today to get you to change your mind."

"Good luck with that," Blaine laughed.

 

*

 

 **Week eight, day four**  
Kurt glared at Martha who was still admiring the scarf he'd brought back. "No."

"You owe me, Kurt."

"I'm still on leave," Kurt replied. "I'm not due back until Monday."

"And yet you still came in," Martha replied. "I've been covering your ass for eight weeks you can cover mine for one day."

"Still on leave, Martha."

"You need a distraction."

"And why would I need a distraction?"

"Because you came back boy less."

"Blaine is not a boy."

"But you still came back without him."

Kurt sighed and sank into a nearby chair. "His lawyers fobbed me off and so I must have trawled every Junior High in Los Angeles. Took me over four weeks to find the one where he worked."

"And?"

"Worked. Past tense. He quit and he left and I was too late."

"Oh sweetie... I am so, so sorry."

"It's my own fault," Kurt said. "I should never have let him leave."

"You need two things," Martha said, walking around her desk. "You need a drink," she continued, pulling a bottle of vodka from a drawer, "and you need a distraction."

"What am I covering?" Kurt sighed, knowing the quickest way to avoid Martha talking his ear off was to agree. "And I am not doing shots."

 

*

 

 **Week eight, day five**  
"Well give her my best," the Principal said as they walked down the hall, "I hope it's not too serious. And it's clearly a day for changes. Mr James is also off sick so I'd like to introduce you to the best substitute we've ever had and hopefully our new Seventh Grade teacher if I can have my way. Mr Hummel? This is Blaine Anderson."

Kurt heard nothing past the rushing of blood in his ears as they came face to face for the first time in months.

"I'll leave you two to get to know each other," the Principal said and then she was gone, either having missed or ignoring the intense look the two men were exchanging.

"You're here," Kurt said.

Blaine gave a small shrug. "I can teach anywhere, remember?"

"Blaine..." Kurt said, taking a step forward but then the bell rang and twenty excited students poured into the room, eager to begin.

 

*

 

Blaine was very tactful in his avoidance of Kurt. He surrounded himself with kids, always turning Kurt's attention to them whenever he came near. After almost an hour of trying to get Blaine to talk to him Kurt realised he was going to have to be a bit more subtle in his approach.

 

*

 

"So tell me about this project," Kurt said once the class had assembled. They were about to give their presentations so a natural lull gave him the perfect opportunity to interview the group. "It's an annual thing, yeah?"

"Everyone looks forward to it," one girl (Melissa?) said excitedly. "And when Mr James went off sick we were all worried that we wouldn't get to do it."

"But Mr Anderson saved the day?"

The whole class chorused their agreement before it descended into cheers and applause.

"Best sub ever," a boy declared when the cheers died down, earning a second round that saw Blaine blush harder than ever.

Kurt pulled the interview effortlessly back on topic, discussing each group's ideas and themes. He took notes and photos, even signing an autograph for one girl who was more than a bit star struck at meeting a real life fashion journalist.

Blaine set out a chair, centre stage, for Kurt which he slipped into and tried to focus on what each group were saying. He knew he would be expected to judge the groups and give a complete review on each of them. But whenever he could he snuck glances to where Blaine was sat, a few metres to his right.

For the most part Blaine was watching the students and Kurt couldn't miss how proud he was of them, how much he'd put into this week with them. He'd suspected that Blaine was the kind of teacher that children would remember for the rest of their lives and now he had proof; this entire class were buzzing with ideas and excitement and confidence, something Kurt knew instinctively had come about because of Blaine's faith in them.

There was something about him that brought out the best in everyone he was near.

 

*

 

Once the final group had made their presentation, showing off a new style in practical formal wear (which Kurt was very impressed with) he was right there with Blaine in the applause and cheers, prompting severe embarrassment in the previously confident Eighth Graders.

"So who won?" Melissa asked, bounding up to Kurt.

"Before I announce the winning group," he said, turning to face Blaine, "I think it's worth saying you were all fantastic. Due in some small part to Mr Anderson here."

"I didn't do anything..." Blaine stammered.

"I'm sure that's not true," Kurt said. "I have never seen a class this engaged, this willing to get up in front of someone. They have put heart and soul into these designs and it's clear that they have a teacher who cares about them. That's pretty rare these days."

"Mr Anderson is _awesome_ ," a girl in the throng declared, prompting giggles from a high contingent of the females.

"I'm sure he is," Kurt smirked, fixing Blaine with a look that made his meaning clear.

"Thank you," Blaine said, pointedly ignoring Kurt, "and I am going to miss you guys."

"We got you something," Melissa said, gesturing wildly to a couple of the boys. "We were gonna give it to you later but..." The boys return, (badly) hiding a card and present behind their backs. "We'd really like it if you stayed but we know you wanna go."

"If I stayed I wouldn't be your teacher anymore," Blaine pointed out. "Miss Smith teaches Seventh Grade, remember?"

"No, but we'd still see you and you could help out with the drama club 'cause you'd be awesome at that too. We know you can sing, we heard you."

"Melissa..."

"This has been the best week ever, we've all had so much fun and that's because of you. So we wanted to say thank you and goodbye and..."

"Stay? Please?" a random boy asked, prompting the whole class to plead as if they were all auditioning for the role of Oliver.

"Sounds like you have a bit of a fan club," Kurt said as Blaine accepted the card and present.

"Think maybe I do," he said, slightly overwhelmed by it.

"So who won?" Melissa asked. Now that Mr Anderson had his gifts she could get back to more important matters.

Kurt laughed and shook his head slightly. "One thing at a time, kiddo."

Blaine had opened the oversized card and was busy reading all the messages that the class had written. They were all variations on the same message.

_Thank you._

_I'll miss you._

_PLEASE STAY._

_You're so much better than Mr James. (Please don't tell him I said so.)_

He couldn't stop the tears welling up and he fought hard to blink them away. "Enough about me, Kurt, I believe you promised to let them know who won?"

"Can I get away with saying you all did?" Kurt teased, laughing at the chorused 'NO' that came back at him. "OK, OK. I actually have two groups in mind. One because of their designs and one because of the presentation that they did. So, if Mr Anderson doesn't mind, I have a suggestion. I know that there's some vouchers for the winning group?" When Blaine nodded Kurt continued. "Then I'd like to give them to Violet's group for an amazing presentation."

Violet's group bounced up and down in excitement, gently mocking their classmates.

"But," Kurt said firmly, getting their attention, "good though you were there was another group that showed real promise."

"But we still won, right?" Violet asked.

"A friend of mine from High School helps run a tailor shop," Kurt said, "and so, assuming it's alright with your parents and the school, I wanted to award Melissa's group the chance to come and make their designs professionally. You guys showed some real talent for fashion and I was really impressed with what you were able to do given the time and resources you had."

There was a moment's silence as this was processed, then Kurt was mobbed by Melissa's group, all desperate to hug and kiss him because they were _totally going to be the next big designer and oh my god how cool is this!_

Blaine watched Kurt almost disappear under the five excited girls, somehow managing to catch his eye. They held the other's gaze for a moment before smiling, real and honest smiles.

 

*

 

The end of the school week was drawn out as each child wanted a moment to say goodbye to Mr Anderson. Each of them tried to convince him to stay, to take the job, but Blaine apologised again and again to each child. And each apology was a little weaker than the one before until there was one child left.

"Melissa?" Blaine ventured.

"No one gets me like you do," she mumbled. "Please don't go."

"Hey," Blaine said, pulling up a couple of the chairs for them to sit on. "You're gonna be fine."

Kurt had been waiting to speak to Blaine, hanging back as the class were dismissed. He'd taken the chance to text Mercedes and tell her that he'd volunteered her services for some fantastic Junior High talent. He'd almost let her know that he'd found Blaine but he knew that the first thing she would want to do would be to call him and he needed to be focused on this.

When he'd noticed Melissa hanging back he'd almost told her to go but then she and Blaine began to talk and Kurt realised that this was something big.

"What do I do when they find out?" she asked quietly.

"Well they don't need to find out until you're ready. You can do this on your terms if you want."

"And if it doesn't work like that?"

"Then you'll be fine too. I know it."

"How can you be sure?" she asked.

"Because I'm proof," he smiled. "I came out in High School, on my terms, and no it wasn't easy but you have great friends, Melissa. They will support you."

"I don't want to lose them."

Blaine had been here for one week and he'd already become this girl's confidant in the biggest way he ever could, Kurt realised. One week and he was changing and influencing Melissa's life in ways that would stay with her for the rest of her life. Thinking back to his own school life he realised that it had taken months, even years before he'd trusted teachers enough to let them in about stuff this person and Blaine had done it in a week.

Blaine's gaze flickered to Kurt. For a second he wondered if he should leave; this was deeply personal and private to Melissa and he was intruding.

But then he realised that Blaine wasn't asking Kurt to leave.

"Then they weren't your friends in the first place," Kurt said, moving over to join them. "Everyone knew about me but it wasn't until I stood up and said, yeah; I'm gay, that they started to make life hard for me. But that's when I found out who my friends really were. They looked out for me, looked after me, and I made it through High School."

"You think I'll be OK?" Melissa asked him. "I mean, I'm still getting my head around this."

"I think you'll be great," Kurt said. "A friend of mine was... Well, she didn't have the best time of it. But she worked out who she was and she never once apologised for it. And we grew up in Ohio where things were _very_ different!"

"And just because I'm not about doesn't mean you're on your own," Blaine said, trying to reassure Melissa. "There's plenty of faculty members..."

"They're not you," she said, her voice wavering. "They're not going to get it, not really."

"I do," Kurt said, digging in his pocket. "And I'll always listen." He held out a business card to her. "If you want me to."

"Thank you," she said quietly, taking it and slipping it into her bag.

"I meant what I said, you know. Your designs were amazing."

"He should know," Blaine continued. "His own are fantastic."

Melissa looked from one to the other. "You two know each other?" she asked. "You said you both grew up in Ohio. Did you go to the same school or something?"

"No," Kurt said, "but we found out that we did leave near the other when we were kids."

"Oh, right. Just sounded like you two were friends or something."

"...From a long time ago," Blaine said quietly.

"Cool," she grinned as she put the pieces together, remembering the business card. "So I can get hold of you through Kurt. Thanks Mr A!"

"No, Melissa..." Blaine started to protest but she'd already grabbed her bag. "I'm your teacher..."

"Well, school's over now so you're kinda not. And if you know Kurt then if I need to talk to you he can pass on a message."

"It doesn't work like that," Blaine said. "It can't."

"I'm not daft," Melissa said. "The only reason you can't give me your details is because you're my teacher. But if you're not my teacher then what's the harm? I mean, the only reason you don't want to do that is because I know you want to stay, and I reckon Kurt wants you to stay too," she declared. "And I've been a good girl this year so I'm asking Santa for you to come back after Christmas."

"You're a bit old to be believing in Santa," Blaine laughed.

"How else are you going to get what you want?" she asked. "Thanks for this week. Best teacher ever."

"You're welcome," Blaine replied, still a bit dumbstruck at how he'd been outwitted by a girl who'd just turned thirteen. "Have a good weekend, Melissa."

"You too," she grinned. "See ya, Kurt!"

Kurt gave a small wave as she raced out of the door before turning to look at Blaine. Once she'd gone Blaine became aware of the fact that he and Kurt were alone and there were no distractions, nothing to come between them.

"Blaine..." Kurt began.

"Question twenty," Blaine said before Kurt could continue. "There's a coffee shop a couple of blocks down the road. Does a pretty decent Medium Drip. Wait for me there? I need to.. sort a few things out here."

"OK," Kurt said. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"A great afternoon, for not kicking me out. For at least giving me a chance to talk to you."

Blaine shrugged non-commitally and turned back to what had been his desk for the last week.

"For what it's worth, she was right," Kurt said. "About you staying. I always thought it but now I have proof; you're an amazing teacher."

"I just..."

"Blaine, how long was it before you trusted a teacher with your biggest secret? It took me over a year before I could tell a _friend_ that I was gay, never mind any one of the teachers. And within a week she trusts you?"

"Right place, right time..."

"No, it's not," Kurt said quietly. "Because sometimes you just know. And it doesn't matter if it's just been a week... you know."

"I'll see you at the coffee shop. Soon as I can."

"Right. Still drinking Medium Drip?"

"Some things haven't changed. I'll be as quick as I can."

"Right. Yeah."

Blaine waited until he heard the classroom door shut and then he sighed. This morning he had a plan, this morning he knew what was going on.

Now he had no clue.


	5. Chapter 5

It was almost an hour before he joined Kurt outside the coffee shop. He took the remaining distance in a quick run, pulling up just short of where he was waiting, cup in hand.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately as Kurt glared at him. "I had to see the Principal about a few things and then some of the faculty wanted to see me and..." He shoved his hands into his coat pocket and shuffled his feet. "I'm sorry."

"It'll be cold by now," Kurt said, handing over the cup.

"I'm sorry."

"I thought you had ditched me," Kurt said. "That you were ignoring me as payback."

"Isn't that your party trick?" Blaine muttered before he could stop himself. He dropped the takeaway cup into the nearest bin and shoved his hands back into his pockets to protect his fingers from the New York winter. "Avoiding people, blocking them at every turn."

"What are you talking about?"

"Two months," he snapped. "Two months I've been here and two months I've tried to get in contact with you. But not once did you bother to pick up the phone."

"And how exactly would I be able to call you?" Kurt asked.

"I left my cell number... everywhere," he said. "With your old landlady, every email I sent to every address for _Closet_ could get my hands on..."

"What?"

"But it seems that all you've done is ignore me for the last two months and then what? You just happen to turn up at the school I've been working at?"

"Yes actually," Kurt said. "I was there because I owed Martha a favour. Martha works at _Closet_ , does a lot of the community pieces including anything to do with schools. Anyway she's been covering me for the last few months because I've been on leave."

"Renovating your new apartment?" Blaine snapped. "New project for you?"

"I wasn't even in New York," Kurt said. "I moved and then a week later I got on a plane. I got back yesterday." He stopped and looked at Blaine. "Ask me where I was."

"What?"

"Ask me where I've been for the last two months and why I was there."

"Shit, Kurt, your dad...?"

"Is fine. And if you're not going to play along I'll tell you. I was in Los Angeles."

"What?" Blaine asked.

"I was in LA," Kurt said, taking a step closer to Blaine. "I just... Why are you in New York?"

"Because I can teach anywhere," Blaine repeated. "Because I realised that it didn't matter where I taught. But it mattered to me where... where you were."

"Oh god, Blaine..." Kurt almost laughed.

"You went to LA?"

"I wanted to... I needed to..." Kurt stammered, trying to put into words what he'd been trying to work out for months. "I know this is stupid but since you left I have missed you."

"Why?" Blaine asked. "Why would you miss someone you don't care about?"

"Don't care... Blaine, why would you think that?"

"Because you told me," he snapped. "Or rather didn't tell me. I asked you, outright, what I meant to you and you couldn't tell me. You have never been able to tell me what I needed to hear and that was enough. I knew where I stood. You don't feel about me the way I do about you and I had some stupid notion that if I could just see you and talk to you that maybe, if you had time, if we had time that—"

"Blaine, shut up!" Kurt laughed. "Just... It wasn't that. It was _never_ that. I just... I thought you needed someone. Anyone. I thought that you just wanted an escape, somewhere to be accepted."

"Well doesn't anyone?" Blaine asked. "But it was never that. I thought you _knew_..."

"Knew what?" Kurt asked.

"How I felt," he replied quietly. "But I'm not what you need, what you want. And..."

"Can you please just shut up?" Kurt said before practically throwing himself at Blaine. His arms wrapped tightly around Blaine's neck and he held on as if he was scared letting him go would mean losing him again.

"I'm not going to be another Adam for you," Blaine said as his own arms wrapped involuntarily around Kurt's waist. "I know I'm not... But I thought with time you might be able to fall in love with me."

"I'm already in with love you," Kurt breathed out so quietly that for a moment Blaine wondered if he'd imagined it. "I thought you didn't want me."

"Why wouldn't I want _you_?" Blaine asked. "Why would you...?"

But then there were no more words because Kurt had pulled back enough to kiss him and then they were _kissing_ and they were _together_ and there would be time for talking later. Maybe much, much later.

"Question twenty," Kurt said. "Come home with me? Stay tonight? Be there when I wake up tomorrow? Let us figure this out?"

"That's four questions," Blaine laughed. "You only have one left."

"Stay with me tonight," Kurt asked. "I love you. Stay. Please."

"Kurt..." Blaine began, running his hands down Kurt's arms. "Why would you want me? All those times you knocked me back? Why now? What's changed?"

"Nothing, everything! God, Blaine... I wanted... I wanted you, I did. I just needed..."

"It was so easy for me to fall in love with you," Blaine said quietly. "What you did for me, who you are... And it was never about needing to be rescued or standing up to my granddad. It was about... about you giving me the strength to be able to do that for myself.

"I called them, said I was moving to New York. Mom thought it was me moving to be with you like we'd said, and I told her everything."

"Everything?"

"I'm sick of lying and hiding and just... being with you? You give me the strength to be who I am, who I'm supposed to be and who I want to be. But what do I do for you? I'm just some guy who ran from a family who didn't accept him, who runs from a relationship when it's going south. I'm not brave or strong or... anything, Kurt."

"You really don't think you're...?" Kurt said quietly. Holding Blaine's face in his hands he kissed him once, gently. "You're _everything_. Everything I want I want with you. I thought I wanted to marry Adam but it was... I was more into the idea of getting married than anything else. And then I was married and it... was _everything_.

"And as for what you are? You're all heart, Blaine, and if I didn't know that before today watching you with that girl would have told me everything I needed to know. You put everything you have into something. I got a chance to talk to some of those kids about you and they all adored you. All of them. You're that rare teacher that even the kid you've put on detention still likes.

"You bring out the best in people, Blaine. You brought some amazing qualities out in these kids and me..."

"You're amazing already," Blaine interrupted but Kurt ignored him.

"...you got me out of my little world. I was moping over Adam and drove halfway across the country to escape from... everything. Then I meet you and I'm standing up to your granddad and I'm enjoying time with my family and not _once_ do I think about Adam or how badly I screwed up. I should have quit long ago but I was stubborn and stupid and then I beat myself up over that and you? You made me get on with things. You made me remember how much good there is in life because I was getting so caught up in all the bad shit."

"That's cheating. Using me against myself."

"I will do anything if it means that I don't lose you again. I hate my life when you're not in it."

"I was in it for a week," Blaine protested.

"And, at the risk of sounding stupidly clichéd, it was a week that changed my life. I don't think you understand how... I don't open up to just anyone, Blaine. For pity's sake I knew Adam for three years before we got together. Trusting someone like that, opening up to them... It doesn't come easy. Didn't. With you there was none of that. We both remember that night—"

"Well, most of it," Blaine said.

"And we never stopped talking. We told each other everything and we didn't hold back because... Because we didn't want to. And I thought it was just me but you're here. You came to New York the same reason I went to LA and I am not letting you walk away thinking that I don't... That I don't want you. Same as you want me.

"And I do want you, Blaine. I want everything that comes with that and... You haven't answered my question. Stay. Tonight. With me."

"I'm supposed to be flying to Seattle in a few hours," Blaine said quietly and Kurt almost laughed at the non sequitur. "I've been staying with a friend and she's got a new roommate moving in tomorrow so everything's packed and..."

Kurt's heart plummeted and he took a step back from Blaine.

"I can't come back with you," Blaine almost whispered, "not without going there first. I promised her I'd drop the key off and I'd need my things and..."

This time Kurt did give a short laugh but in relief. "You're evil. That was _not_ fair."

"About as fair as your receptionist has been treating me. She could have told me that you weren't in New York!"

"Joanne?" Kurt asked. "She's lovely. Protective, but lovely. I'll speak to her on Monday. And Mrs Phillips. My old landlady," he explained.

"So the whole of New York was trying to protect you?" Blaine asked.

"You broke my heart," Kurt said. "When you signed those papers? It broke my heart."

"Broke mine too," Blaine whispered.

For a moment they stood there, on the edge of a busy New York street, saying nothing as people milled around them going about their lives.

"Come home with me," Kurt asked.

"Just so you know," Blaine smiled, stepping forward, "I'm probably going to want to stay a bit longer than just tonight. Seeing as I've got nowhere else."

"I can deal with that," Kurt smiled as Blaine pulled him back in for a kiss.

 

*

 

They caught a cab back to Blaine's former apartment, Kurt shifting from foot to foot nervously as Blaine gathered his things. He felt out of place, standing around while Blaine gathered up his bags and made a final sweep to make sure he'd got everything.

"Have we met?"

Kurt looked over at Blaine's friend and (former) roommate before shaking his head.

"Cath, this is Kurt," Blaine introduced as he shoved the last of his things into a bag with some space. "Think that's everything."

"Kurt?" Cath asked Blaine, her head whipping around so quickly she nearly gave herself whiplash. " _The_ Kurt? The one you came to New York for?"

"Hi," Kurt said with a little wave and embarrassed smile.

"He was flying out tonight," she snapped before laughing. "Why did you leave it until the last possible minute? We could have lost him." She playfully hit him on the arm before half hugging him in relief.

"It was never my plan," Kurt said

His stomach dropped as he realised Cath was right; he could have lost Blaine. For good. If he'd not gone into the office, if he'd not run into Martha, if he'd not agreed to go just to shut her up... If he'd chosen a different table in Vegas. So many things went right for him to have met Blaine, have gotten to know him, married him, fallen in love with him, missed him... He may not believe in God but he was starting to believe in Fate.

"You hurt him..." Cath threatened but was stopped as Blaine put his hands on Kurt's shoulders and began to steer him towards the door.

"Key is on the side, I'll call you later. Thank you so much for everything. Bye!"

"Um, bye..." Cath called out after them as the door slammed shut.

 

*

 

"Don't judge," Kurt warned as he put the key into the lock, "this apartment is much more a work in progress. I had a week before I left, enough time to get rid of some of the more... disagreeable aspects."

Blaine stepped across the threshold and let out his breath in a low whistle. "If this is your idea of work in progress then you should have seen my uncle when he was trying to build a tree house. We were tripping over wood and tools for months."

Kurt's idea of 'work in progress' was neatly stripped walls that already looked to have their undercoat painted on (the smell free stuff if it was). The furniture was slightly more central than where they would probably end up but there was already a sense that this was going to be a _home_.

"I needed a distraction," Kurt said quietly.

Blaine dropped his bags where he stood and closed the distance between them. "Well I'm not going to distract you from another masterpiece."

"No, you're helping with this one," Kurt laughed, kissing the tip of his nose.

"Am I now?"

"You think you're staying and getting all of the benefits for none of the work? Think on, Anderson. Too late for that blue pill now."

"Wouldn't want it if it were on offer."

"Good to know. I obviously don't have much in, but there's a good delivery place a few blocks over? I have a menu here somewhere... What?" he asked when he caught Blaine's laugh.

"This. Us. We're... I don't know quite what we are just yet but this? Is very domestic."

"What?"

"Me helping with the renovations, ordering dinner..."

"What were you expecting?" Kurt asked, a sly grin creeping onto his lips.

"A tour of the place for a start?"

"Fine," he laughed, taking Blaine's hand in his. "What I love about this place is the lounge and kitchen are separate, but I'm thinking of opening it out a little more," he said as they walked past the door that led to the aforementioned kitchen. "Bathroom," he announced, "or 'wet room in waiting' to give it its proper title."

"Wet rooms are awesome," Blaine said, his voice low and suggestive. "So much easier to... share."

"Spare room," Kurt said, purposefully ignoring the comment. "Or office as it'll become. And this..." he announced with an air of grandness, "is the master bedroom."

The room was almost as big as the lounge itself and it was clear why Kurt had chosen this apartment as his next project. Like so many New York apartments it had floor to ceiling glass panes on one wall, but unlike the ones he'd seen these were stained glass.

The dying rays of the sun bathed the room in faint blues and greens, patterns of light fell over a king sized bed (OK, so Blaine noticed that first but he could hardly be blamed for having a one track mind at the moment), fitted units and a door that most likely led to an en suite.

But Blaine was still thinking about the bed.

His hands slipped around Kurt's waist and he kissed the side of his neck.

"Blaine," Kurt said as his head lolled to one side. "What's the rush?"

"Two months," Blaine breathed against Kurt's skin. "I've been in New York for two months for you."

"And I was in LA for you," Kurt reminded, turning in Blaine's arms so they were facing. "But this isn't about where we were and what we wanted, and it's not about how much we have missed each other or the time we've wasted."

"Then what is it about?" Blaine almost whined.

"This is about us, doing this right. We've fucked this up enough times and we've had a pitiful amount of time together so I think that means our ratio needs work."

"And how do we work on that?" Blaine asked, moving so he could kiss up Kurt's jaw.

Kurt shivered a little under the attention but he steeled his resolve. "We order dinner, we talk. _Then_ we go to bed."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he grinned.

 

*

 

The take out place, as promised, was pretty decent. There were able to order beers with their food, all of which was consumed in between conversations. Because they never stopped talking. They talked about why they went through with the divorce (lots of "I thought you..." reasons) and why they decided to find the other (lots of "I wanted to at least try" reasons), what ideas and hopes and dreams they had for the future (lots of "you and me" stories) and what they wanted from the other.

Blaine told Kurt that he didn't want to be rescued or saved or sheltered. He wanted someone he could be himself with, someone who pushed him and encouraged him and supported him. Someone who stood by him no matter what and who would love him no matter what.

Kurt wanted someone to share everything with. Every hope and dream and plan. Someone who would work to find a middle ground if that wasn't possible. He wanted someone who would break down any walls he put up, someone who he could let his guard down with and be completely vulnerable with.

In short, they wanted each other.

"How's your dad?" Blaine asked as they shared the washing up.

(Yeah, they were so fucking domestic it was almost comical.)

"He's great. Had a go at me when the... when the divorce came through. Yelled at me about letting you go. You know he knew. When we were there, he knew. How I felt."

"I think he knew how I felt too," Blaine admitted.

"Been nice if he'd let us in on it."

"We needed to get here ourselves. Even if we have done this backwards."

"What?" Kurt asked.

"We got married. Then we did the meet the parents thing. Then we really got to know each other. Then we did the whole 'chasing after each other' thing..."

"Who wants to be like everyone else?" Kurt shrugged, smiling as Blaine leant over and kissed him gently.

"I think it's time you made good on a promise, Mr Hummel," he said, his voice low.

"Well. If you think so..."

 

*

 

They didn't remember their first time and the second they'd been so desperate for the other that they'd almost raced through it.

This time was slower, more considered.

Blaine committed every part of Kurt's body to memory, tried to remember how he responded to every touch and kiss. The one time he did remember they had been amazing together and now they got to build on that, do better.

"Kurt," Blaine whispered. "Kurt..."

"What?" Kurt snapped, not happy about being distracted from where his mouth had been heading.

"I just... I wondered... Who..."

"Oh for pity's sake, Blaine," Kurt laughed, resting his chin on Blaine's stomach and looked up at him through his long eyelashes and how the fuck did Blaine end up with such a beautiful boyfriend?

"Before, when we... You topped and... Is that you? I mean, are you...?"

Kurt laughed softly and pressed a kiss into Blaine's naval before shuffling up the bed. "Am I a top?" He shrugged as best he could when he was lying half on Blaine's body. "I guess so."

"You guess?" Blaine asked, grabbing Kurt's waist and turning him over on the bed. "In the eight years you've been having sex you've not figured that out? You're telling me that your wonderful first time you told me about; from that friend at the end of your freshman year through to Adam... You _guess_?"

"Adam was the third person I ever slept with," Kurt said, reaching up a hand to run through Blaine's curls. "I was the bottom the first time, I mainly topped with the second but it wasn't as if we... and with Adam... He was a bottom. We switched on the ABC principle but he hated it, I could tell."

"ABC?"

"Anniversary, birthday, Christmas," Kurt laughed.

"It's nearly Christmas," Blaine muttered into Kurt's neck. "And I am most certainly not exclusive. So let me... Please?"

Kurt's voice failed him so he just nodded.

Blaine's mouth trailed down Kurt's chest, across his stomach, towards his hips. He pressed a soft kiss at the base of Kurt's erection, rubbing the tip of his nose up the shaft before extending his tongue to lick a stripe up it. He smiled at the sound of Kurt's foul mouthed exclamation when he tongued at the tip before decisively sinking his mouth over as much as he could take.

With every lover he'd had Blaine had made it a requirement to learn at least one new technique. This had been an early one; his more experienced boyfriend at the time had made him come hard and fast with the most amazing blowjob and so Blaine had insisted that he be taught how to return the favour.

(The ability to deep throat came two men later.)

But now? Now he felt as if all of that was another lifetime because anything he was going to learn and discover and do he was going to do with Kurt and only Kurt and that was his life now. This man was his life.

He was brought back to the present when Kurt's hips bucked up, the tip of his cock crashing against the back of Blaine's throat. That was enough and without further warning Kurt came, hard and hot, Blaine had enough presence of mind to remember to swallow, lapping at Kurt until he settled back on the bed.

"Fuck, you have got to teach me that," Kurt breathed and Blaine laughed, remembering that he'd said the exact same thing years ago. "That was... Fuck, Blaine."

Crawling up the bed he hovered over Kurt's body, watching him chill out from his orgasm. "Hey," he nudged, "no snoozing. I'm not done with you yet."

"Promise?" Kurt asked, his eyes opening to fix on Blaine's.

"Promise," he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his mouth. "I assume..."

Kurt barely nodded as Blaine supported himself on one hand and pulled at the nearby drawer with the other. He found the tube with ease and with it the still wrapped familiar square box.

"Boy scout?" Blaine teased.

"Hoping that I'd come back from LA with you actually," Kurt said quietly and Blaine couldn't tear himself from his gaze. Those colourful irises (Blaine had Google'd glasz before he came back to New York, if only to put detail to the eyes that haunted his dreams.) were blown wide; a thin strip around the darkest black which only served to make Blaine feel wanted and safe and perfect.

Then Kurt's hand around his still hard cock amplified the sensation.

"You're going off script," Blaine growled, lowering his mouth to Kurt's neck and sucking on it.

"Interlude," Kurt gasped as he felt Blaine's teeth lightly grazing his skin.

"Places for the second act then."

"Worst fucking metaphor ever."

"Shut up," Blaine said, kissing Kurt with more tongue than technique. "If it's too much tell me."

Deftly he uncapped the lube and squeezed some onto his fingers. Taking a minute to warm it he traced a dry finger from Kurt's sac to his hole, Kurt already gasping in a mixture of anticipation and some over stimulation.

"Promise me you'll say something?" Blaine asked. "I don't want to hurt you."

"If you don't get on with it you'll never hear the end of it," Kurt hissed, lifting his hips up to make his point.

Laughing and taking his cue, Blaine pushed his index finger against Kurt, gently working past the muscle. He took his time (thank you first boyfriend) and allowed Kurt to adjust until he was in almost to the knuckle. To the sounds of Kurt's arousal Blaine worked a second then third, teasing his prostate to elicit the stream of profanities and cries of his name, pleas for _more_ and _right there_ and _harder_ and _don't stop_ that were just as arousing for him.

"Promise?" Blaine reminded Kurt as he reached for the condom packet.

"What?" Kurt whimpered as Blaine removed his hand. "What? I... yeah, whatever..."

"Whatever?" Blaine laughed as he prepared himself. "Way to make a guy feel loved."

Kurt's hands gripped at Blaine's shoulders, indicating that he should come back up the bed. Once there Kurt held his face and his gaze.

"I love you," he said, quietly and clearly. "Blaine..."

"I love you too," Blaine replied.

He moved slowly, letting Kurt adjust and focusing on that. It was a long minute but once he was there and he felt Kurt's body relax beneath him, Blaine set a languid pace, rolling his hips in gentle circles.

The litany of words and gasps and Blaine's name that escaped Kurt's lips only spurred Blaine on. He loved it when his partner topped because it was not about giving up control or being submissive, but it was about opening yourself up (literally and figuratively he guessed) to someone. So when he'd topped he'd made sure that he took care of the other, that before and after was just as important as the during.

And after what Kurt had told him Blaine was more determined than ever.

Before Kurt could get complacent with the pace or angle Blaine would switch, increasing tempo or making a subtle shift so he pulled against Kurt's prostate, making his breath stick in his throat and his head roll back on the pillows.

"Blaine..." he managed to stutter. "I'm..."

"It's OK," Blaine smiled, a hand snaking between them to grasp his cock.

"Not without you," Kurt growled. "Not fair... otherwise. Please..."

Blaine laughed softly, stole a kiss, and pushed in harder and faster. Kurt's request had broken some of his restraint and try as he might he couldn't hold off the tightness in his stomach, descending to his balls and every nerve. When Kurt's hands gripped his ass tightly he couldn't stop and he came with a yell muffled into the body beneath him.

"Fuck," Blaine muttered as he withdrew, his lungs taking in air as if he'd been drowning. Which wasn't a bad analogy really. Once his brain had rewired itself enough he removed the condom, tying it off and wrapping it in a tissue.

"What do you do to me?" Blaine whispered as he pressed kisses along Kurt's jaw, his hand wrapping around Kurt's cock and gently stroking him to orgasm.

"What do you do to me?" Kurt said when he finally could.

Blaine ventured into the en suite and returned with a washcloth. He took his time, lovingly working over Kurt's body, cleaning up come and lube, following most of his sweeps with a kiss.

"And we're just going to get better at this," Kurt said sleepily when Blaine returned to bed, slipping under the covers to find him.

"Yeah, we are," Blaine agreed, reaching over Kurt's body to find the light switch and plunging the room into near darkness.

He staved off sleep as long as he could, wanting to take in as much as he could, but eventually that too overwhelmed him and he fell into the same contented sleep as the man he was spooned around.

 

*

 

Kurt woke and stretched out in bed, testing out his body. Aside from the usual feeling that came from a night of sex (love making? could he be that soppy yet?) he felt good. Happy. Wanted. Loved.

Blaine's side of the bed was empty but still warm so he got up, pulling on a clean pair of boxers and walking down the short hallway to the living area.

"No, Kait, I'm not in Seattle."

He heard Blaine talking and found him in the kitchen. He had his cell phone in one hand and seemed to be turning on the coffee machine with the other.

"I'm still in New York," Blaine continued. "No, Kait, I didn't miss my flight... No it wasn't..." He stopped and gave a deep laugh. "Yes, I found him."

Blaine moved the cell phone from his ear and Kurt could hear Kaitlyn's screams of absolute _delight_ resonate from the tiny speaker.

"Look, I just wanted to let you know that... What? Yeah. Yeah. I'm happy. I want to be with him, Kait. I don't care about how we met or what happened, I just..." Blaine turned around to get something and he noticed Kurt standing in the doorway, just watching him. "Love him," Blaine finished.

'Love you too,' Kurt mouthed back.

He waited for Blaine to finish off the call, taking over the working of the coffee machine to make sure what was produced was drinkable. He was just pouring out the two mugs when he felt a pair of strong arms wrap around his waist.

"Morning," Blaine said, kissing Kurt's bare shoulder.

"Morning yourself," he said, leaning back against him.

"I know you asked me to be there when you woke up..."

"You're here," Kurt grinned, turning in Blaine's arms, "that's more than good enough for me."

"So... what now? I mean..."

"Honestly I have no idea," Kurt laughed. "I didn't think much beyond this, getting you back."

"Really?" Blaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing I want to admit to at any rate," Kurt said, trying to move out of Blaine's arms. When he refused to let go he changed tact, putting his hands on Blaine's chest. "Blaine..."

"You and I got ourselves in a mess because we didn't talk to each other. And from what I remember about Vegas we never stopped talking."

"Blaine..."

"Tell me," he whispered, kissing Kurt gently.

"I don't want to rush this..."

Blaine laughed. "Kurt, we got married the day we met. How on earth can we rush this now?"

Kurt seemed to consider this, tilting his head to one side as he looked at Blaine. "What is it you do to me, Blaine Anderson? I can't figure it out."

"Well we've got a lifetime to work on it."

"Really?" Kurt asked, the uncertainty clear.

"What? You don't think so?"

"Oh no," Kurt stammered. "No, not..." He took a deep breath and forced himself to hold Blaine's gaze. "It's all I think about. I... _missed_ you."

"I'm here."

"Yeah, but it's not the same. I don't know how to explain it but... when we were married it felt _different_ somehow. I don't know why and I don't know how I can..." He stopped and closed his eyes. "I think I miss being married to you," he said eventually.

He felt Blaine's arms slip from his waist and he braced himself for the shocked look on his _boyfriend's_ face. His boyfriend. He finally got him back, he found him and had him and now he was about to scare him across the country to Seattle because he was pushing it.

"Kurt..." Blaine said quietly.

"You asked," Kurt said quickly, "and I said I didn't want to rush it and..."

"Kurt, look at me," Blaine said firmly.

So Kurt finally opened his eyes.

And saw Blaine on one knee in front of him.

"I miss it too," he said, "and I know you want the grand romantic gesture. You know I love you, you know I want this, you, everything... And yeah, I wanna be married to you. Again. Properly. I know that you're it for me. I know I'm going to spend the rest of my life with you."

"You're sure about this?" Kurt whispered, trying to keep himself calm.

"One week, one night, one hour... I knew in Vegas and I know now. I love you and... Will you marry me?"

Kurt wasn't sure if he managed to say it out loud so he just nodded and bent over to kiss Blaine, laughing as he was pulled down onto the floor on top of him. For a long while they lay together on the kitchen floor, exchanging kisses and gentle touches.

"You're sure about this?" Kurt asked. "Not about me, us... this... But we don't need to rush into anything."

Blaine laughed softly and dipped his head so he could kiss his _fiancé_. "I've known for ages. I think I knew, for certain, when we were at my parents'. What you did..."

"It was nothing," Kurt said, looking up at him.

"It was everything. Because of what you did things are changing. Slowly, but they're changing." He kissed Kurt once and smiled. "I'm actually not scared of calling and telling them about us. This."

"I'm glad," Kurt smiled. "But you mind if we do something first?" He laughed as Blaine's head dropped to his and their bodies shifted closer together.

The two mugs of barely touched coffee cooled on the countertop without further disturbance.

 

*

 

Blaine wasn't sure he was ready for this. Burt and Carole had by all accounts not been impressed when Kurt told them the divorce had gone through. Kurt had hinted that there had been more than one argument about it; for that reason Kurt hadn't told them about his trip to Los Angeles. He couldn't stand the idea that if it had all gone wrong he'd have to face his parents on top of it.

Blaine knew that they liked him and he knew that they wanted him and Kurt to be together. But there was a wealth of difference between them being together and them getting married. Again. This soon.

Kurt tilted the computer screen so the camera was giving a better view and shot a look at Blaine. "It'll work better if you're here with me. Dad might think I've lost it otherwise."

"Kurt..." Blaine began but he was stopped when he heard Carole's voice coming through the speakers.

"Well this is a lovely surprise," she said. "Everything OK?"

"Everything's fine," Kurt smiled. "Is Dad there? I need to talk to you both."

"I'm here, kid," Burt said as he moved into view. "So what's up? Not that I'm complaining about speaking to you for a second weekend in a row but we both know this isn't normal. You sure everything's OK?"

"Everything's great, Dad," Kurt smiled, his gaze flitting up to where Blaine was standing, just out of view of the webcam. "I..."

"Who's there with you?" Carole asked. "There is someone there, isn't there?"

"Kurt?" Burt asked.

"I don't want you two to freak out," Kurt said, "Dad, remember your heart, OK?"

"Now I'm worried," Burt muttered. "You know me and Carole... we just want what's best for you. And if there's someone who makes you happy... So how about this guy of yours stop hiding behind the computer and get in view."

"There is a guy, right?" Carole asked, a mixture of emotions.

"Of course there is, love," Burt said. "But he's hiding. Come on, boy, we're not that scary I promise."

Blaine couldn't help but laugh, the last of his nerves gone. "See, I know that's not true," he said as he sat down next to Kurt.

Kurt immediately grabbed Blaine's hand which was all the confirmation that his parents needed before Carole was squealing in happiness and hugging Burt tightly. He just grinned, caught his son's eye, and nodded.

"Dad, Carole..." Kurt said, trying to get their attention. "There's more."

"More?" Burt asked. "You two are...? I mean, it looks like you two are back together?"

"Yeah, we are. And we're... We're getting married. Again. And I know it's quick and there's no need to rush but it's what we want. And I love him, Dad, I really love him. You know how much I love him and he came here for me so I know he loves me too. You told me that it only took a moment to fall in love with someone and I had a whole week and these last months have been hell and..."

"Kurt!" Carole said loudly, getting his attention and making him realise she'd been trying to do so for a while. "Blaine, you OK, love?"

"I'm..." he began.

"Overwhelmed?" Carole laughed. "I can understand that."

"You're sure about this?" Burt asked. "You two really do love each other? You want this? For keeps?"

Kurt and Blaine looked at each other, unsure who that question was directed at. So they both turned back to the computer and nodded.

"Then it don't matter what I think or Carole thinks or anyone else thinks," Burt continued. "All I want is for my boy to be happy and as long as Blaine promises he'll work hard to make that happen..."

"Yes, I swear it," Blaine enthused. "I never wanted... the divorce..."

"Is in the past," Kurt interrupted. "But seriously, you're OK with this?" he asked. "I know you want what's best for me and..." He stopped when he caught his father's gaze. Ever since he was a kid he'd known that look.

"I love you," Burt said. "And I'm not stupid. I know you love that boy. Knew it the second I saw you two together at the garage. And maybe this is quick, if you two really want forever then what's wrong with taking time to do it right? But if this is what you want, if you two are set on this then our job in this is to be there.

"Because we get to come to this wedding, right?" he laughed. "Soon as you set a date let us know."

"We already have," Kurt smiled.

"You two really aren't letting the grass grow are you?" Carole said with a note of concern in her voice.

"It's not next week," Blaine said, finding his voice. "We figured... Next summer. Our 'anniversary' of sorts."

"Sounds like a great idea," Carole said, obviously relieved. "So I take it your move to New York is...?"

"For keeps, yeah," Blaine said. "I've got an interview on Monday for a job but the Principal says it's a formality. Seventh grade English, great school, amazing kids. It's mine if I want it."

"And you do?"

"Of course," he smiled. As soon as he'd asked Kurt to meet him he'd known, deep down he had known. So he'd spoken to the Principal and agreed to take the job and he'd gone to that coffee shop yesterday knowing, _knowing_ that he was staying.

"Well I'm glad to hear it," Carole smiled. "Now Kurt, I think you and I need to see to our men because mine's about to stress himself into the hospital and I think yours is on the verge of passing out."

"I'll call you later," Kurt smiled. "Love you."

"Love you too," Carole smiled, reaching out and then the screen went blank.

"You OK?" Kurt asked.

"I... They really OK with this?"

"You met my dad. You think he says stuff he doesn't mean?"

"That's what worries me," Blaine laughed. "Eight months to sort out a wedding?"

"Leave it to me," Kurt said, leaning over and kissing his cheek.

 

*

 

Fairytales always end with a wedding.

Blaine, with his love of Disney stories, and Kurt, with his adoration of Broadway musicals, had convinced themselves they were living in one. They'd fallen in love over the course of a week then been parted. Over the following months they wanted and missed and looked for the other. Then they found each other and in less than twenty four hours they had moved in and gotten engaged under promise of honesty and forever.

 

*

 

Life isn't a fairytale though.

 

*

 

Their first argument blindsided them. It came from nowhere after a long week for both of them; Blaine had been swamped at work due to a stomach bug wiping out half the faculty and Kurt had been trying to work at the magazine, plan the wedding and arrange for the builders to come and knock down part of the dividing wall to open out the kitchen.

When Kurt put paint samples in front of Blaine and asked him to choose one, the reply of "I don't care, you choose" didn't go down well.

Highlights?

"I gave up _everything_ to come here. My job, my life, what friends I had."

"I'm not going to carry you, Blaine. You told me you wanted to be your own person and stand on your own two feet. You need to work on that, it's not going to just happen."

After snapping that Blaine grabbed his jacket and left the apartment, not coming home for hours. When he came back the air still crackled with anger but Blaine chose the two samples he liked the most and said Kurt should have the final say between them.

Kurt chose one and said that this was Blaine's home too.

For an hour they pointedly ignored each other. In the end it was when Kurt almost cut his finger off preparing dinner and instinctively Blaine was by his side, helping to clean the cut and dress it, that things thawed between them.

 

*

 

The second was two months before the wedding. Without warning or notice Blaine snapped at Kurt that he was taking over the plans and suddenly it wasn't their wedding.

Kurt said nothing in response as Blaine went to bed.

When Blaine woke at four the next morning the other side of the bed was cold. He got up to find Kurt sat in the middle of their (now open plan) living area with his entire wedding file spread out in front of him.

"Green notes are ones we've done," he said, indicating a couple of receipts Blaine recognised as the reception venue and menu. "Yellow are the things you decided on," he continued, indicating a smaller pile (probably the date, the anniversary had been his idea). "The red notes are me."

That pile was huge, papers scattered everywhere.

"I am the world's _worst_ boyfriend," Kurt muttered. "This is all me, not us. You were right."

"Kurt..." Blaine said quietly.

"I'm so sorry..."

"No, I am," Blaine said a little louder. He walked over to where Kurt was and slotted himself in the small gap that was between Kurt's back and the couch, wrapping himself around his fiancé's body. "I was angry last night, I took it out on you and I shouldn't have. I just..."

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and was shocked at how cold he was.

"My parents called, they don't know if they can come," Blaine said quietly into Kurt's shoulder. "Granddad's refusing to come, but we guessed that would happen, and Mom and Dad aren't sure they can be here without rocking the boat. Mom was full of apologies but it's a big enough deal that me being here with you hasn't resulted in the three of us being cut out of the will."

"I know, love, I know," Kurt soothed.

"I know they'd be here if they could it's just..."

"They're your family."

"And you're my family. I should have talked to you instead of..."

"It's OK," Kurt soothed. "You were right though. This is all me. All of it."

"I don't care," Blaine whispered. "I honestly don't. I know I should but there are just two things I care about."

"Which are?"

"That we both turn up," Blaine said, kissing the side of Kurt's neck, "and that we get married. That's all we needed in Vegas."

"There's a part of me tempted to just run back there," Kurt laughed. "Can we just be married now?"

"I don't think I ever really stopped thinking of you as my husband."

"Me either. And I know we don't _have_ to get married..."

Blaine said nothing in response, just pressed in gently with his legs on either side of Kurt's body and held him close.

 

*

 

"You should be the one staying," Kurt muttered. "We should both stay."

"You want to tell your dad that?" Blaine laughed.

"This is a stupid tradition."

"You got five minutes, Hummel," a girl called out, "and then I'm splitting you two up. With a crowbar if I need it."

"Santana, right?" Blaine whispered. Kurt nodded and he smiled. "She's not splitting us up. No one is."

"Too right," Kurt replied. "I love you."

"Four minutes!" Santana called, backed up by calls from the rest of the McKinley crew who had arrived in town for the 'wedding of the century'.

"I'll see you in the morning," Blaine said, kissing Kurt briefly and stepping away from his grasp. "Enjoy your night but please don't overdo it."

"No chance," Kurt smiled. "I want to remember _everything_ about this."

Blaine laughed and picked up his overnight bag. "See you."

"Oh look, they can be separated," Santana drawled. "So. Did you manage to keep your mouth shut or was there tongue?"

Mercedes grabbed a nearby cushion and threw it at Santana in an effort to shut her up. "He doesn't know?"

"Nope," Kurt grinned.

"Ask me, that's the most romantic thing anyone can do for someone," Rachel sighed, clasping her glass of champagne to her chest.

"What? Faking a business trip so Hobbit's parents can lie to his homophobic granddad and therefore pull their heads from their collective behinds and attend their son's wedding? Yeah, stuff of Hallmark."

"When was the last time you spoke to Brittany?" Rachel asked.

"About the same time you had a civil conversation with Finn," Santana snapped back.

Kurt couldn't help but laugh; eight years on and while they'd all grown in their own ways apparently New Directions would always be New Directions. The rest of the evening was taken up with plans for their 'impromptu' performance. Blaine had invited most of the Warblers and old rivalries were being stirred.

 

*

 

The first thing Blaine was aware of when consciousness crept over him was just how overwhelmed he felt. There was so much to process, to think about, to remember that he just took a moment to do just that.

"Morning."

Blaine's eyes flicked open but he didn't move as the familiar voice spoke to him. That familiar, melodic voice...

"How's your head?" the voice asked, laughing softly.

"Mine's fine, how's yours?" Blaine laughed, rolling over to face him.

Kurt's smiling face greeted him before he dipped it, kissing him. It started off gentle but Blaine refused to let him go – literally – his hand snaking up around the back of Kurt's neck.

"So Blaine. You fancy Anderson-Hummel or Hummel-Anderson?" Kurt asked when they finally broke apart.

"I really don't..."

"Care?" Kurt finished with a laugh.

"You're mine," Blaine said, grabbing Kurt's left hand and kissing the new ring in place there. "All I care about."

"You're kinda mine too," Kurt responded. "OK, so what about Hummel-Anderson? The kids still get to call you Mr Anderson..."

"Why is that important?"

"You really want to go back on Monday and tell them you're Anderson-Hummel now? They'd get confused."

"Firstly, they all know about you. Half of them gave us cards, remember? Plus you're already booked for next year's fashion show."

Kurt propped himself up on the bed, looking down at Blaine for a moment. He ran a finger across the soft curls, smiling to himself. "Anderson," he said.

"Hummel-Anderson?"

"Nope."

"Anderson first?"

"Nope."

Blaine's brow creased for a moment before he gave a laugh of disbelief. "Just Anderson?"

"Why not?"

"Because... Because you said yourself, Hummel is your brand. Your designs..."

"Plenty of people have professional names," Kurt said. "I want to... just be yours." He kissed him gently. "For as long as we both shall live," he whispered against Blaine's lips.

 

*

 

**Postscript**

They never remembered exactly what happened outside that wedding chapel. For the curious reader :

_They looked down at the top card and placed both of their hands on it. This was it, this was the moment when..._

_"Kurt," Blaine said softly, getting his attention._

_"If you don't..." Kurt began but then he caught Blaine's eye._

_They lifted their hands from the cards, linking their fingers together. Kurt pocketed the desk before they walked into the chapel._

 

 

For further reference :

Kurt was running late at work and so Blaine was looking for something to keep himself amused. There was nothing on TV, his (or Kurt's) iPod was playing quietly, so he grabbed a deck of cards and dealt a hand of Solitare.

It was the deck from Vegas.

The first card was the six of diamonds.


End file.
